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.”
Blaeron enters and sits. He looks around the tent with disdain, "I am from a small house. I have a mother but no father, my brothers and sisters are dead. I have come to start a new life in a new world surrounded by new people. I want ot make moeny and be rich. Now lemme go your tent stinks..."

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