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?))
Thog scratched his head and sat with a heavy thud. "Hm. Me Thog. You know where find Dwarves?"
The old hag seemingly didn't expect this response. A bit perplexed, she decided to inquire further. "For what purpose would a goblin seek out dwarves?"
Thog grumbled at her response. "No. Thog Dwarf. Need find other Dwarfs."
A mischievous smile crept across her face. Astounded by this bizarre revelation, she investigated still further. "Ah.. and what will you do when you have joined with your kin?"
Thog straitened his back a bit. "Thog must make Rite of Passage. Become real Caveforged like pop." The small goblin brought his fist to his chest in a show of pride.
The old crone was elated at such an outlandish thought. A Goblin becoming a Dwarf? And yet her curiosity of such a future beckoned her to aid the strange being. She giggled, and raised a pale wrinkled hand to point the way. "You will find that which you seek in that direction. But be warned- your goals may prove more challenging than you realize."
Thog stood up with renewed purpose. "Thog Grateful. Me leave now."
Thog crept out of the tent, and back into the dreary darkness. "Perhaps this was the traveler I had expected after all.." she thought to herself, her mind wandering into phantasy at the thought of this strange goblin living amongst Cave Dwarves..