Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
"Normal business," he responds, looking around the tent, making sure there is nobody else in there. When he’s sure nobody else is listening, he looks at her; deep in his eyes, there is hidden pain and suffering. "They are back." The hag knows exactly who he meant.
"I’ve been tracking them for months," he continues, voice deep. "The royal troops lost them seventy miles away, but from what I know, they continued up north. Up here.“ He looks at the hag, expecting some reaction - she was the one he always came to for advice since he was a small child. After a minute of silence, he starts trembling: "They killed my parents. They slaughtered them like pigs!“ Tears started running down his face. "They were merchants; they were not dangerous! And they cut off their heads and hung it up a tree!" He looks at the hag, face wet from tears, but eyes deadly calm. "I will get them. And when I do, nobody, not the strongest army, not the gods themselves, will be able to save them." Those were deadly words. Words from a man who has nothing to lose.
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