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?))
Pim'd look around at all the floating candles for a moment longer before gathering their thoughts and saying, "Fair tidings upon thee ma'am. Pim Periwinkle at your service," (Pim would take a little bow there), "but judging on what you said when I entered I assume you already knew that. I come seeking adventure, for not much has happened in this little life of mine. I was hoping you'd be able to point me in the right direction." Then Pim would pull out a journal she always keeps on hand. Pim'd flip through the pages full of sketches and eventually land on a blank page. She'd then detach the quill from the notebook and give it to the hag. "If you wouldn't mind, could you direct me to the capital? I like to draw maps of places I've been but when it comes to places I've never seen, it gets a lot harder." Then Pim'd take a seat on the cushion and tell her, "I've never left my little village, barely ever left my burrow. What's life like out there?" After they'd finished talking, Pim would step out into the dim town and look for a place to eat. Can't go adventuring on an empty stomach.
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