Skavier1011

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?))

"Welp, itz a story of true grit and 'ardship. Me pa was'ah humie runt, farmin 'an bein miserable whilst me ma led the Hoog-Gitz warband, toughest 'an meanest of da orks! But weez sensitive and fortful sods, so'z when plunderin iz town, dunt krump iz guts and takes me pa as 'er luva instead. 'Erefore, Im one'a'dee only half Orc half humie gitz in'da land." *Skavar smiled proudly, placing heavy gauntleted hands on his hips* "Wells anyway, now I'z be lookin for work, movin on from da clan 'an wanna make me own way, heards you could elp me wi'that"