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.”
"You surely heard about Defalt McDowell, didn’t you?" he said, chuckling.
"I grew up in the city—streets full of thieves, lies, and barely enough to survive. I learned fast: you either take or talk. A bard’s story changed my life. I figured out I could charm my way through anything, use illusions to make people believe whatever I wanted. Soon, I was making a name for myself, telling stories, getting paid, and playing the game of power."
"The King took notice, but I wasn’t loyal. I did what I needed to survive. Then came the war. The city split in two, and I was right there, pulling strings. People died, but I came out on top."
"Ellie, my wife, she doesn’t like this life. Thinks I’ll die doing what I do. Maybe she’s right. But I’m still here, still playing the game." he said, exhaling.
"So, old hag, what do you want? Speak quickly—if it’s worth it, I’ll listen."
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