MalciasX

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?))

"I'm only an honest penniless beggar from the city. I was but ten when my mum was hanged a thief. She was stealing cheese, bread, and rum, they said. Not a surprise to me, she never had a shortage of rum." He flashed a wicked smile of crooked brown teeth. "But a boy learns to survive, oh! There's food to be had in the streets, if you're brave enough to take it or wretched enough to scrounge it! I was a scrounger, my mum taught me that much." An ugly cackle escaped his mouth, and he smacked the table in apparent delight. "Well, after a while you need to do more than scrounge! Old Billy was a good scrounger, he had bought himself a wagon and a horse just from selling horseshoes and old clothes! But one day, someone pushed Old Billy in the river and took his wagon!" He gave another ugly laugh. "So are you sure it was me you were waiting for, old lady? Because no one's ever eagerly waited for Stevron Gollick, except for a street urchin looking for fresh rat meat."

"Now, how about you donate a few coins to this poor old scoundrel? I'm hungry and weary and not in any mood for argument." His right hand crept down to his dagger, bound to his hip. "Now, don't be greedy, I don't like greedy old women."