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.”
"ah my story, huh. well it started at the age of thirty at my parents house. I had been living there for all my life and my parents had become sick of me wanting stay there for all my life while doing nothing but sleep, so after a heated argument i got banished from my home with the little money i had and the clothes i wore on that day." Cracking a smile with a small laugh "at first i hated them for banishing me but after a year i started to get used to traverling around and started earing some money by selling things i gatherd on the my travels. so for those six years i have but wondered the lands enjoying the sites while living life to the fullest."
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