SteamDory

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.”

"I sit on the pillow that the witch has pointed out to me, causing a small cloud of dust to rise from it's underside. My hands begin to move almost involuntarily, mimicking small gestures as i search for the right words. I watch the inside of the tent, my eyes following the dance of the candles suspended in the air being fascinated by em, before taking a deep breath and finally speaking." "I am Flaila, a mountain dwarf," she says as my voice gain more strength as i continue. "Mainly I deal in weapon making and craftsmanship. I left my village.. looking for a place to stay." Pausing, as i shutter a bit as the memories coming back up in my head. "It was looted by some ologs.. Now i'm looking for a home, a place where i can work." her hands stops and my gaze returns to the witch. "Would you happen to know where i could find something to do?".