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.”
He would adjust his seat to get all comfortable, fixing his toga and not getting it all crumpled up. He then wiped his face off before looking at her. His accent was an urbanized accent, tough and innercity. "My story? Well... I was born in the farlands, that gabagoule, you know? My family was all religious fanatics. I always been a huge fan of providing the people food and that dosh. So I ran a campaign promoting prosperity and no starving. Cuz I am a peoples guy, you know?" He chuckled a bit as he sat forward "I became a people's godfather, being a senator and taking my place... Ever since that day I been... I been a real good guy." he slowly sat back and sat in silence "So... Toots what the plan now?"
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