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?))
"That is mighty kind of you to invite me inside, madam, but I'm afraid I'm not allowed to enter. Us couriers are only allowed to meet clients at the door." I smile, and hand over a piece of rolled-up parchment sealed with black wax. "Hope it's good news inside that there scroll. It's all sealed up tight for you now. And anyway, I wouldn't be able to read what was inside even if it were open!" I chuckle. "I'm still getting the hang of this courier business, it's been a big change after living out in the highlands for so long. Dangerous too, mind. But it pays for me to live in town and explore the world a little bit - much more exciting than cleaning up sheep dung. I'm hoping that one day, I'll be hired by a powerful house, then I'll be proper looked after. And maybe deliver some important news, too."
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