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?))
Tel looks to the woman, then glances around the tent he finds himself in. "Oh- I.. sure, aye." he pulls the chair back with a creak. "I've grown up on the outskirts of Haense, it was difficult during the mori." he'd sigh, twiddling his thumbs together. "We lost the farm, all that we had with it. I was hoping to join the brotherhood, but after seeing all of that- I don't think I'm cut out for the army." He'd tilt his head towards her, "What's brought me to this dingy town? well, I've got to find somewhere to go now, aye? We've all got to find our place. Dingy is familiar, dingy is safe."
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