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.”
"You've been expecting me? How do you know who I am?" You say. "It is best not to know." The old hag says with a smile. You consider for a moment. "Well, I was once the son of a merchant in a far off land, not known by you from Aevon. Life was paradise. Then, the orcs, who we once trusted, attacked, laying waste to the city. My parents were killed in cold blood, and I barely escaped. I swore to take revenge, and rode off, looking for a new place to settle or adventure.
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