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?))
I sit and think of the parts that I can tell. I finally tell her, "A'h jus' got back from th'a voyage, that god-forsaken dolphin got away again, but one day A'h swear I'll get that dolphin back for m'uh stolen leg." I don't mention the raiders, they almost got me this time, and no one knows I've betrayed them.
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_02/27cce0f15b3a2954ea6595deabf07dfa73332b52.png.1cbf0b99c6ceaebb0a90c6c70529857d.png)
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