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?))
*Bok took a deep breath as he stepped into the tattered tent. He had heard about this mysterious place, and was eager to explore. He was surprised to see a hag at the back of the tent, and she seemed to recognize him. He nodded respectfully as she spoke, and he sat down on the cushion she gestured to.* "My story is a long one," Bok began, "I was born an ork on the fringes of society, and I have always been curious and clever. I have traveled far and wide, learning and exploring all I can, and I finally found my way here. I have come because I am seeking knowledge, and I hope to find it here."
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