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?))
Olthon swatted a bug away from his face and turned to the hag, "If you know me already you should already know why I'm here." He sat on the ground, removed his right boot and dumped out a few small rocks and dirt. "But," he said annoyed, "If you need a reminder, I am Olthon Ulriar, adventurer." He dumped his left boot, "I'm looking for someone." He reached into his bag pulling out an old wanted poster with a tough looking elven woman. The name under her crude drawing, barely legible, read Alashadi Ulriar. "Recognize her?"
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