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?))
Example: "I- thank you?" He nearly stumbles over some trash within the dingy tent that he didn't notice since he was too busy gawking at the casual display of magic within this crone's ratchet housing. "My name is Smollet.. though I expect you know that already," he gave an easy smile as his eyes roved around the tent with obvious and even rather impolite curiosity. "I'm afraid there is not much interesting to say about me. My parents were kind, my teachers were strict, Sometimes we had to go hungry, sometimes we had so much food that we could afford to not even plant for a year! Though we always did. Now it's my turn to bring honour to my family so, now I'm traveling the lands and I'm looking for a place to settle down in!" He gave another smile, evidently happy to get it off his chest and even though the old hag may not be the most pleasant of conversation partners he felt an odd sense of contentment within himself. He stood up, nearly ripping through the tent and gave a small bow. "I'm afraid that I mustn't dally here for too long, I must get to Urguan before nightfall. Perhaps they would accept to teach me smithing there!" He left the tent in a rather unhurried pace, taking extra care to not trip over any of the random debris strewn about and walked off down the gravel 'road' quickly breaking into a run and catching up to a cart that was coincidentally riding off into the same direction as his travels.
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