Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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"
Xanar Mlezzarr was a common foot soldier in a drow raiding party, forced into four grueling tours of duty against surface dwellers. After his troop was abandoned by a noble house during a botched raid on a dwarven hold,Xanar Mlezzarr realized the army was a hollow, treacherous family. He survived the brutal surface elements, eventually deciding to use his elite stealth and combat skills as a warrior rather than returning to the crushing oppression of the Underdark."Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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