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?))
Ilgyr stayed standing, cautious of what the hag was planning. "Why must you know?" The hag responded with: "Come on, you can trust me. I'm just an old woman wanting to hear a young man's tale." "Fine," the man said hesitantly, "but I do not have much to tell. I was born in Nor'asath like most other dark elves, but I had been born with some sort of defect. I came out with blank white eyes. The other kids and even the adults outcast me. Even my parents had a bit of disdain towards me growing up." Ilgyr paused for a second, blanking out. "Anyways... just this last month, I left home to find a better purpose. That's about all."
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