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, I..." Something compels me to tell her. "I wanted to see the world. See other races, experience adventures, so I ran away from home. I hope I can return as a successful adventurer" I say, my voice changing from quiet and unsure to certain and louder, my eyes stop darting around the room and fixate on the hag's eyes as I stop fidgeting with my sleeves.
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