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?))
"Oh, I just, uh…" Billiard stutter, tensing up. Eyeing the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until after a deep breath he nodded. "Y-yes ma'am" he said as he made his way to the cushion tripping on his way over. With an reddening face he quickly sat down before the crone. Looking up for a mere moment before quickly looking back down. After taking another deep breath he began his story "I-I come from a family full of talents, I myself am the 4th oldest..." he faltered for a moment before he looked up and stared the crone in the eyes "but I have no such talent...I'm the run-of-the-mill ordinary elf, but I wish for my own talent to show my worth!" he exclaimed "That's why I set out on this journey, perhaps I could learn some skills that I could bring back home to show them that even someone like me can be have talent too!" he smiled sadly as he looked down, fiddling with his hands "that's all there is to me really..."
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