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?))
Balcar takes a seat in one of her chairs it looks old and beat up. “Before I start talking I want to have a meal” Balcar says. He pulls out his cylinder container filled with soup from last night. Balcar then pours it into a wooden bowl the old lady gave to him. “My name is Balcar I am a forest dwarf, I am 19 and my stomach does not seem to ever get full I love to eat all sorts of food. Currently I’m on a mission to find a place to call home. I’ve been traveling these woods for the past year, but so far nothing has stood out. Do you know of any good places to eat in this town?" Balcar says.

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