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?))
''Hello *coughs*, i am a dweller from a nation by the name of Streyae, which is conceivably unknown to you. The nation got destroyed a long, unknown time ago by hordes of barbarians that killed my brother. The last moment that i sighted of the raid was my brother getting slashed by a group of barbarians while nurses were treating me not too far away from them *in a frustrated voice*. After that incident, i supposedly fell asleep and woke up in this unknown land and came to your town for guidance. I am experienced in fighting, especially archery, and architecture. *kneels down* I prithee you, accept me, I could be of great help to your town.''
OOC: My brother getting slashed in the pictures
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