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?))
“Why should I tell you anything?” Says Cynrad as he eyes the candles and wonders what magic is keeping them afloat, as he has been fascinated by magic his whole life. Cynrad feels that leaving the strange tent would be a good idea but he decides to play along, at least for a little. “Okay, fine, if you really must know, for most of my life I lived at home with my parents in a cabin on the outskirts of a city. A few years ago I decided to say farewell and leave home to try my luck in the wider world. Now that I’ve told you my story, what’s yours?”
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_06/9F70E827-2928-460B-9B5D-18041873E92C.jpeg.ff40af8fea27a22f937a595b5f7bb891.jpeg)
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