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.”
Daergir was surprised to hear that. ‘I was just passing through.’ Then he wondered how this old hag knew him. Then he began to tell his story. ‘I was working as a carpenter's apprentice in the city. I had to go to the village of the forest dwarves because of my work. Then I saw a group of orcs on the road and immediately started to run away from there. After a little further in the forest, I got lost. I saw the lights of this swamp in the distance and came here.’ said Daergir. He looked very agitated and said, "I am no one special, how do you know me?"
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