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?))
Osfer sits cautiously on the cushion, looking the hag up and down while nervously fingering his pipe in this vest pocket. "Well I arrived here in town with my half-brother, Derman Thormod, in search of something larger than our humble and boring lives on our parents' farm. We lived simple yet fulfilling lives on the farm, but after a plague swept through our village and our parents fell victim, they left the farm to our care. However, we had always cared more for the tales that mother told us of times of dragons and great wars and we sold the farm and left our village to find the truths behind such stories." *He took his hands out of his pockets and twiddled his thumbs in his lap looking expectantly at the woman across from him* "So what can you tell me about this town?"
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