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 think I'm lost, I was supposed to meet my kin of cave dwarfs in the south. But it seems my travels haven't been blessed so far. My family in the North wanted me to learn the refined ways of the south so I could live up to my father's potential. I think you can help me find the way, can you? I sure hope you can, cause if I don't learn the ways of the south I won't be welcome in the north anymore.
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