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?))
Hoshgrish: OOOOHAHAHHAHHA HEHEHHEHE AUAUAAUGA (I hailed from a quiet little cave to the east, I came up with nothing but the rags I was born in, I was forced to steal from village folk to survive, which landed me in jail multiple times from when I was a Juvenile.)
Hoshgrish: OOOOOOOOOOOOWAAAAAAA Ting Famblesh (I finally decided to move from my cave to this town to start a new life, hopefully one where I won't be persecuted simply for being an orc, or for eating infants)
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