You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
((How do you respond?))
"I have travelled throughout the lands, moving from town to town and pickpocketing the local laborers for mina and food." He looks around admiring his surroundings. "I've never been in a high castle or a big temple, I'm always at the bottom of the food chain. Snatching bread from the local farmers, I've always been careful of whom and what is around me." He'd look at the old hag, bags under my eyes from exhaustion "It's been a tough couple of months for me and I'm seeking for riches and jewels to support my family." I'd look down at my hands, and puts my face in my hands "I'm trying to better my self by doing hard labour and paying for my crimes."
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