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?))
*Valkyrie examines the crone curiously* "You were expecting me? How could you know I was to come here?" Seeing the candles Valkyrie shifts around nervously having a distrust of magic. "You should be more careful with those candles...a mage lost control of a floating torch showing off in my old tavern. Burned it all down." The Old hag cackles. "Don't worry I have been doing this my whole life they wont fall. Anyway, again, tell me your story." *Valkyrie sighs* "Well, I am from a small farming village from a distant land. Growing up there my family always stuck out. The village was mostly Highlanders...so obviously, my family being from the heartlands, stuck out. My family ran the village tavern so we were tolerated but still felt like outcasts."
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