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?))
"It is hard to rememeber... but I'll try. I was with my friends transporting wheat and bread to a small village. We had about 1 - 3 Carriges of food. After we arrived, the village was raided by bandits. The villagers, imprisoned. They through us of our carriges. I rolled down the hill into a bush and saw my friends be slaughtered and stabbed to death, because we were witnesses. The bandits saw me and i ran as fast as i could. Suddenly, i crashed into a branch and was knocked out.
I somehow then woke up in a carrige. And thats how i arrived here...
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