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?)
I ponder for a moment before answering, "I'm just a simple dwarf, born and raised like any other. Mining, Smithing, and Money is all I know." I pause for a brief second staring into the candles flame. "I came to this town to set up a shop, I can't just live in the caves forever, I need food and people to talk to instead of speaking to the rocks and walls. Every person has a tale and with ever sword I sell a new companion is found."
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