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.”
"It's simple, realleh" the portly dwarf attests, making himself comfortable and grabbing a stool from her hut and sitting there, creaking the poor stool with his heft. "Ah'm hungreh." Flattening down his gambeson, he looks up at the old hag "oh! Ah bet ye want to know more than what I want to eat. Well, Cousin Okre sent me out from the mines of my dwarven hold, Ranum'tath. But et seems..." he scratches his thick beard "ah'm... perhaps... just a tad bit... lost." The admission is quickly swallowed with "now, bring me an ale and I'll tell ye some more."
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