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?))
"my story?" he scoff's but decides to humor her. "ive been searching for my place in the world." he responds gruffly, a green and rough hand runs through his accorn hair, eyes driffting to the ceiling of the tent in thought. "i left my stronghold, wanting to find myself. didnt want the life of a blacksmith, like my farther before me." theres a pause, a bitter sweet memory, then he continues. " ive traveled far, helped people, mostly. done some bad things too. dont have much regret."
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