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?))
"Well now, not quite sure who you are, ma'am but i suppose i'll tell you my story if you give me some food.
I was born under a tree in the mountains and lived most of my life until now with the clan there. I have just left and started venturing out to see the world before I go back and settle down. This is the first town I have come to. Ever since I was a young lad I wanted to venture out of the mountain and see the world. It is not so often dwarves do such a thing as you may know. I was told about this town on my way along the road when I asked if there was any place nearby to get something to eat. I was surprised when you said you were expecting me however..." *stares at the old woman intently*
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