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 have had a rough tra..." you collapse on the floor from your long journey. you have finally made it to the place in your dreams. Glory will be with the Adunian race once again.
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_07/3ef00949b0b530299c7d366185bc94e88faa7517_2000x2000.webp.79af3d92a133beb0e97dddee0151fae4.webp)
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