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.”
"I look at her and start talking" I have come from Sweden after I fled. I was hunted by the Knights of the Swedish kingdom, Many people called me a god there because of my looks and how I treated them, I was stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor by all means I wasn't a good man I have killed countless of people. The people of Sweden called me Odin The father of the Scandinavian gods.
Give me a cool story about this Viking fleeing the Swedish kingdom named Ragnarök tell me like you are him
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