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 sit down in shock of her aperance. I tell her about my way to her tent. "My village got attacked by dark elves leaving the village in flames". "I tried to fight them but got stabed by an elf that hid behind me". "I ran away but got followed by them ass i ran upp in the mountains and almost died of frostbite". "As the elves lost me i ran down the mountain to the destroyed village where i found the you". I make my self at home as she comes closer to hear what more im going to tell her.
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