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?))
Asher Goldleaf approaches the old hag in the tent and sits cautiously where the hag gestured at. "The names Asher Goldleaf, but you probably already knew that if you were expecting me?" Asher said. "Yes... I've been expecting you for sometime now. Thought you were never coming, but I learned to never doubt my visions. Now please tell me how you ended up in a rather dreary place like this?" The hag said. "Indeed, but I will need to start from the very beginning in order for you to understand completely. I was born in the Vale of Nevaehlen located on the south eastern peninsula of Almaris. I lived in a small farming hut with my mother, (Holly)father, (Arven) and sister (Eleanor). We were a happy family living with each other until one day while I was only 7 years old an envoy of Dwarven troops came marching on my village to pillage and raid everything they set their eyes upon. I barely was able to make it out alive, but I can't say the same about the rest. Now I wander the lands in search of greatness and power to someday enact my revenge on the Dwarves who took my life away from me."
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