Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
Talon: *sits down* "Well, I'm an Apothecary wanting to go into alchemy but had to give up due to having more of a body built for being a fighter. I came looking for new materials to craft medicines out in newer lands. I come from a small town of elves who were either fighters or Medicine makers that are divided into their chosen group once we hit adolescence. Sadly I was chosen to be a fighter while in schooling to be an Apothecary. I ran from my hometown to further study medicine and help people instead of harming them. However, I am at least skilled with a small knife and a quarterstaff for self defense."
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