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…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
"Uh, hello." He muttered, slowly taking a seat on the cushion.
"Where to begin?" Markus sat to himself for a moment, thinking, before suddenly speaking in a shaky voice.
"I come from outside the walls of Haense, from a less than average household. My father had died fighting to protect me in the Adrian Rebellion as a lowly foot soldier, and we never really had much money. So after he had died I didn't really know where to go, or what to do.
But I know I must do whatever it takes to keep surviving, for my father."
Markus shifts to a much more desperate tone "So please, if you have any jobs for me I will take them, I will do anything for the money."
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