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?))
*Dralvon keeps his hand close to his dagger but accepts her invite and sits* "I don't remember much of my boyhood". *Dralvon rubs his hands together* "I grew up in a small village but as I got older I realized that I was meant for more. I now dedicate my life as a servant of Anbella. I'm here because I wish to spread her joy. her cheer. and mostly her love". "I remember my father being a warrior. He use to test me with daggers and such. Before I left for the temple he gave me his dagger". *Dralvon pulls the dagger from his waist and holds it in his hands to show the hag* "It is all I have left" *Dralvon put his hands on his knees and stands* "I haven't had much of a journey yet. But I suspect I will soon enough" *Dralvon bows to the woman and leaves the tent*
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