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?)
"I was told," Skjorn began, eyeing the floating candles and taking the offered seat, "that there was a woman in this town who could help me learn... certain magics. The kind you travel a long way to the middle of a bog to talk about. Do you know where I might find this woman?"
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