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?))
"Expecting me?" She questions, hesitating before sitting atop the cushion. They sit in silence for a moment, before Tal'aer gives in and leans back on her hands, "My story is certainly not an interesting one, but I'll tell it all the same. I know very little of my upbringing, save for the fact that it was led by teachers, not family." A pause, as she eyes the hag inquisitively, trying to determine her intentions, before continuing, "I have lived a... 'sheltered' life, those who cared for me wanted to protect me, hide me, I can never be sure. Whatever their reasoning, now that I'm free from them I intend to make up for lost time and experience as much of the world as I can. That, I suppose, is what brings me to this... What did you call it, 'dingy town'?"

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