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?))
The Steel Mask churned and scraped against the tuff of the bear that fell upon their hood, staring to the woman with no visible visage in their eyes since the mask covered most of their face. The individual spoke in a muffled, friendly voice; having a hint of femininity within their speech, "I was raised by Goblins, may you could understand my hospitality." The individual joked but continued, "I came to read about the town, it's so. . Dead, maybe even undead knowing you might be the first person I have interacted within this town." The Human spoke, crossing one leg over the other as they stirred back to relax before stating once more; "Hopefully, you understand my time here won't be long. . I do not speak about myself often so, hopefully I can get out of this situation faster." The Masked individual added, snickering underneath their hooded face.
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_01/body.png.af30950869872295741c9e9b8b237da1.png)
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