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.”
Obel walks into the tent grumbling something either along the lines of "...Rubbish" or some other sort of rude comment as he walks in, he drags mud and filth on his boots and clothes not seemingly noticing or caring much other than wiping his boots on a nice rug. He looks around at the mystical and dimly lit tent and snorts a bit and then turns his gaze to the cushion and then looking back to the old woman.
"Aye?!, ye were " expectin' " me, were ya? well most people I know who would be expectin' me 'ere would either have bought me somethin' ta drink or would've tried ta put an ax in me head!" He lets out a heartly laugh then looks at her sternly.
"let's hope yer not tha second option aye? fer yer sake..." he stares at her not taking a sit but merely standing and watching... and watching... until he smiles
"Ha! most people would get tha wobbles, yer a tough one aint ya?!" he says letting another hearty laugh.
"Well, if ye were expectin' me ye SHOULD know the name...But I aint a rude fella!, Tha names Obel Sparkglare tis a family name! on account of..." he points to his bright orange eyes
"But well my story? well i just spent a good few days walkin in mud, water and beast shit so ive tha story is not tha greatest one i could tell!" He tries to sound confident and and make it out like a jest though he seems to be trying to avoid the question of his "story".
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