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?))
Valeerie took in the sights and the scents as her face wrinkled up almost squinting at the horrid odors she is inhaling and exhaling, listening carefully to the old hag as she sat down very politely after dusting off the old cushioned seat as if there was dust on it to begin with before sitting down. She would brush a few strands of hair behind her elvish ear as she spoken softly. "You know why I am hear ma'am I simple just wish to gather my memories or of where it is I am supposed to be heading for the job you've asked of me to do"
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