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.”
"Oh I havent seen you in a while." he sits down. "Ive come from the forest of Mirkwood, which i have travelled through the misty mountains hunting orcs crossing our borders. But i was caught in a storm and was taken from my hunting group and was captured by some of these orcs. They held me captive until about 10 miles out from this dim town, as they spotted cattle and i caught them off guard and killed them. I have come here with no resources, food, or water. I only seek a minimal amount of aid." He waits for a response.
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