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?))
While first curious, Athanaric would look around wondering who she was and where and what time it was. Athanaric would speak with a soft sounding voice, "My name is Athanaric Freig, I come from a land far away from this land. I really only came here with the clothes on my back." As he took a breath, he felt like puking due to the smell. Athanaric really hated the smell of wet moss and rotten wood, even though he was used to it at this point. Once again Athanaric spoke with his soft sounding voice, "I am a peasant from a kingdom far away. I don't remember the name, I kind of lost my memory from my past life." He'd look around the tent, Athanaric was wondering why he stepped in here. Was it cause he was lost? Was it cause he's stupid and likes to walk into things he shouldn't have, "I'm rather young I say and I'm just traveling to this town to find a new life and settle down as something else than a peasant."
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