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?))
heehhh, hello? are you sure you were expecting me? ''asked very dubiously'' hehhh, i was told there would be a nice workshop where i could slave away hehh, not a big ugly muddy stinky swamp with unfertile land that doesnt have more than 8 resdidents. heh, i am gruber i was born in Sludgeville growing up farming wheat, potato and carrots my last year there i could help the blacksmith but i left and do temporary jobs till i find a nice place to stay i hoped it would be here butt.. what is this place? hehhh ''first instance i thought this was hell no farms? what do they eat? eachother?, honestly wouldn't have been a bad shout considering the state the land was in, i don't participate in cannibalism i don't know if this is the place to stay''....
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