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?))
He pauses, studying her wrinkled face."..Do I know you?"
The hag only grinned, her smile crooked but sweet.
"..I hail from The Vale of Nevaehlen, my family wasn't the most supportive and I may have had a few.. misunderstandings with the law... Worry not, nothing too serious. I suppose I just wanted to escape that, find somewhere or something more fulfilling." He fell silent before speaking again, "Unfortunately, I have yet to find it."
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