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.”
((How do you respond?))
Haldor hesitates for a moment, taking in the dim tent and the flickering candles. He lowers himself onto the cushion, keeping a hand near the haft of his axe out of habit. “I… I am Haldor Pineforge,” he begins, his voice steady but careful. “I come from the Greenvein Woods, far to the north. My clan guards the forest and crafts what the land provides. I’ve journeyed beyond my home to learn more of the world, to see where my skills might be of use.”
He shifts slightly, studying the hag without losing respect. “I mean no harm, and I hope to meet those who seek knowledge or friendship. I carry only what I need, and the forest and my kin guide my path. If you would hear my story… I will share it.”
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