Inkhavens

Backstory:

So, Pipwick isn’t really your "average" goblin. Most goblins are into stealing stuff or blowing things up, but Pipwick just wants to make friends and see the world. He actually got kicked out of his tribe because he kept trying to "un-steal" things—like he’d find a stolen watch and try to sneak it back into the owner's pocket, but he’d usually get caught and everyone thought he was just a bad thief. He’s spent the last few years wandering around, mostly hiding in bushes because people scream when they see a goblin. He’s a bit of a weirdo and talks to himself (and his pet toad, Barnaby) a lot, but he’s actually super gentle. He just wants to find a place where people don't immediately throw rocks at him so he can show off his cool rock collection.

Scenario:
 

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?))

Responce:

Pipwick shuffles into the tent, his oversized boots squelching in the mud. He looks pretty nervous, his big green ears twitching at every little sound of the swamp outside. When the old lady tells him to sit, he jumps a little, nearly dropping a handful of moss he’d been carrying. He awkwardly lowers himself onto the cushion, though he's so short he basically just disappears into it.

"Oh! You... you were waiting for me?" Pipwick asks, his voice sounding like gravel rubbing together. He starts fidgeting with a loose thread on his overalls, giving her a shy, toothy smile that he hopes doesn't look too scary. "I'm just Pipwick. Most people just throw old boots at me or tell me to 'shoo,' so I didn't think anyone was expecting me for tea." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a very small, very flat-looking toad. "This is Barnaby. He’s my best friend. We’re just looking for a place that doesn't smell quite so much like rotten eggs, honestly."