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?))
"Hmph," Hugart splutters, gnawing on a sightly animal bone, spitting out its remnants before responding, "Hugart comes from the Capital of the War Uzg". For a moment he chortles abnormally, then begins to use the bone as a toothpick. "There," he continues, "Hugart tinkered with bombs to create the greatest explosions the Orcish peoples have ever seen!" Hugart plops himself down atop the cushion before finalising; he offers the bone to the crone who jerks repulsively. "But once... Hugart made a bomb so big that it left a great hole in the middle of the encampment, and Rex got very upset at Hugart". Using his dumpy dark-blue hands, Hugart gestures a great explosion, then mocks the frustration of his Rex. "Now, well, Hugart was sent away and is looking for a new home to make more explosions!"
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