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.”
"It all started for me when me and my people were driven out of our home village, attacked by those evil orcs-" she rudely interupted and said "orcs? It's been a while since I have heard about those nasty buggers." He finished my sentence by saying "Yes, Orcs, from the cold north. They left nothing behind but flames and our houses turned into a black coalified version", he described. "It was clear for me that trying to fight tens of orcs wouldn't help a thing! So he decided to flee to one day return and take revenge on those barbaric orcs. he trained every single day and night even in the most freezing winters and the hottest days", he said. Then he added," till my skin was burned into a light red tint. he was dedicated to make sure he was ready when the day would come. And that day finally came, so he decided to start his adventurous journey. he survived the most hideous and dangerous sighting till he came to stumble upon this little 'dingy' village. And that is his story so far but he is far from done! he has a mission to succeed."
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