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?))
"My, story?" *Nalkoth would begin to step back confused, "I'm not..... Oh fine." Nalkoth would sit hesitantly on the cushion, "I'm, from Ramasar, I'm- well, I was a theif in Ramasar... not a great one, best I ever made was this," *Nalkoth says pointing to a dagger sheathed at his side, "Although I can say with certainty I'm not all that proud of my past.... It's simply who I was." *Nalkoth furrows his brow, "My parents weren't around all that much, but my brother was, we stole to survive. It was scary, but my brother fought for me most of the time, kept me safe..." *Nalkoth trails off, slowly shaking his head, "It was sad the day he was arrested..... he got caught for attempting to rob a merchant, I think he was trying to steal food, but, it didn't work. He got caught and I had to spend the next few years attempting to fend for myself and finally I got tired of the same thing everyday. So now I'm here, trying desperately to find a new home, a clean slate. I want to start fresh, adventure, and experience the world.... So adventure I shall!" *Nalkoth smiles triumphantly upon uttering his last word, looking back to the old woman.
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