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?))
The old man eases himself onto the cushion his bones cracking and popping as he sits. He looks around the tent noting there is only one escape the flaps he came in from.
"Well," Redmond mutters his voice unsteady "My story ain't nothing grand. Just an old man who's been running away from everything that so as much looks like trouble. Did simple jobs to get by carrying letters, selling trinkets, working the farm. Simple and humble jobs. Learned the hard way sword in my hand just isnt for me leave that to the young'un or the foolish ones. I prefer running away from trouble kept me alive this long ya know."

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