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?))
he sits down trying to get comfortable on the cushion
"i came here to this horrid place on a tip about a couple of those dumb halflings. As for my story.."
he would settle in and gather his thoughts for a second then continue
"at the ripe old age of 12 this disgusting group of goblins poisoned my cat charles.. i prepared at my parents house for years and set on travel on the night of my 17th birthday i snuck out and ive been traveling ever since killing every halfing i see.."
"th-they've been trying to poison me too with these stupid bugs that they keep putting in my arms-"
he would raise his arm and pull down his sleeve showing cuts along his arm going up to his shoulder
"BUT they must be using some magic cause im the ONLY person who can see them. I swear to god i will kill every halfling i see untill that disgusting race is gone"
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