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.”
With the words rushing out of his mouth like a broken dam, Oriylun recounted his life's story; "Well, my father and mother tended to wander all over the world before their paths crossed in a tavern in the Domain of Vortice. After they met, they quickly formed a bond, started to wander together, and got married after four years. I came into the picture roughly a year and a half after their marriage. So, the wandering resumed for the next seventeen years. Then we were ambushed by bandits. With my parents having nothing of value, and the fear of being reported to the authorities high on their minds, the bandits murdered them. Then they started looking for me. It's been a year, and I wouldn't be surprised if they aren't looking for me anymore. Even if they are, I can handle myself now." I know it's a lot to take in, but I have nowhere to go and stumbled across this town by chance after a lot of bushwacking." Oriylun let all of the information he had dispensed register with the frail old woman. "I'm a loner myself now, as I fear losing what little I have left."
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