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.”
((How do you respond?))
"Ugh, this place is a mess" Maenor gawked, face contorted into a grimace. Sighing, he sat on the cushion, straight upright, legs folded. Glancing at the floating candles, he started "I suppose id be willing to share my history. I was born of pure blood, and attended a college of void magic." remaining static, unphased by the words he was to speak, he added "I innocently inquired about magics id hear of only in rumors, manipulation of spirits, blood and life itself, suggesting it be my next research project. For this i was expelled, stripped of my notes, and sent to exile for my inquiry." speaking with conviction, Maenor continued "I seek now, teachers, willing to explore magic in all its facets, voidal and otherwise, unbound by the rules of those in their ivory towers." Maenor paused, and glared towards the hag, starting "perhaps you'd be willing to help?"
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