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?))
"Well there's not much to say when your people already speak volumes." He replies dipping his head with a slight grin. Then after taking a moment to partake in a study of the hag's own face he replies "My story begins with meeting you. How may I help?" he inquires, taking a seat upon the cushion with a careful, caring demeanor.