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've traveled a long journey, at times I think it's pointless to continue down this road. But I must. Years ago I fought for a kingdom long ago destroyed." Bork's hands absent mindedly move to the metal signet around his neck, unrecognizable to most in this new land. "Now I use my skills for killing the only way I can: Bounty Hunting. It's violent and leaves little room for anything other than bloodshed and coin, but as long as the coin flows the blood will follow."
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