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?))
Jorgalyn looked around at the tent, seeing the sorry state of the interior of the hold hag's home. "Non-dwarven engineering is quite a shoddy thing" she muttered to herself
She turned to the hag ; "I was simply the daughter of two craftsmen in Urguan. I spent the entirety of my childhood with them, but that lifestyle just wasn't for me. Maybe one day I'll return and continue the family tradition, but for now, I'm just a wanderer exploring what this world has to offer"
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