Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. They 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.”
Boblin smells different spices and burning sweetened candles that hide the smell of wood rot and moss. Boblin, carefully and warily of his surroundings, moves closer to the cushion. Boblin pokes the cushion to make sure that the old hag isn't tricking him in any way. "We come from farer to make sure that huumans not make funny business with Boblin" Boblin answers the hag with an untrusting voice, while poking the cushion, not sure what the hag wants Boblin to do. Boblin keeps on standing and is amazed at all the trinkets and potions the hag has in her tent.
A memory of a time gone past, where Boblin's life was better outside of the Hord, serving his master in a room with spices, herbs, trinkets and odds and ends. The moment is broken, while Boblin suddenly asks, "Do u huuuman know our master?" The hag looks at Boblin and only nods her sideways slowly. A silence continues between the two; the hag replays, "Are you looking for your Master?"
Boblin suddenly turned his head to the hag and answered, "Huuuman we look we look" with some joy in Boblin's face and hope that his master wasn't lost to the long sleep. (Death).
As the hag keeps on gesturing to Boblin to sit on the cushion. The hag asks, "Who is your Master?"
Boblin happily leans in closer, trying to mimic a posture he saw a human character use on his travels to convey interest when whispering a secret. "We master has blackish clothes lookin like huuuman, whitish hair and smells very bad like 20 moon cycles. Do huuman know him?" Boblin asks. The hag stands from her cushion and moves across the tent to a small cabinet with all sorts of jars. The hag, in a language Boblin doesn't understand, quickly opens the jar and blows a silver dust in Boblin's face. Boblin Screems "Poison Poison evil huuman" Everything goes dark.....Feeling like almost an eternity in goblin life. Boblin opens his eyes slowly as the light that shines through the leaves shines on his green skin. Boblin realises he is alone again......
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