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?))
"Oh my story is a long and complicated one, and by now I must have forgotten a detail or two. It all started on a cold and harsh winter day, me and my sister were sitting on the floor waiting for my parents to return, from their hurtning. Hours passed and the sun was setting and darkness was devouring the city. a certain light appeared in the darkness, a single red flame in the distance soon became hundreds. Before I knew it the city I was rained in was nothing more than flames and ash. Me and my sister ran as fast as we could for life, but the pet wolves of the orcs were hunting down every survivor. I heard my sister's screams, but I could not look back, the only path that would not lead to my death was forward. From that day I was raised by myself, the only thing that kept me alive was the terror of that night, and the sweet taste of revenge. Now I'm ready to travel the lands in hopes of getting stronger, and give back the revenge that is deserved."
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