Hotroos

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
 

"Oh, it's been a long story. Perhaps you want the summary?" When he doesn't get a response, he uncomfortably shifts to his other leg. "Then I'll give you the shorter version."

"I came from a small coastal town, mainly for fishing, but I was interested in something else: tinkering. Instead of playing the the waters like most kids did, I was creating - or trying to create - small things. Like this!" He pulls out a miniature copy of the wheel and spins it with his fingers. "It looks small, but I hope that one day, I can create something that will have a much larger impact." He happily pockets the trinket and begins to head out of the tent before the hag stops him.

"You look like you're ready for anything." She says in her scratchy voice, gesturing to Jerald's chain-mail and sword. Jerlad scratches his head, grinning.*

"Oh, you know, you can't be too careful. But," He comes back into the tent. "A friend of mine had taught me the basics of sword-fighting some time ago, and while he didn't show me much, I still practice, in case I need them someday." With that, he walks right back out of the tent with a backwards wave, and back onto his journey.