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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 grew up in a noble family, but my family was attacking by a neighboring lord who was greedy for land, he slaughtered my family while I was young, I was the only survivor, so I took my armor and grew up as I adventured out, learning to survive, and adventure, I now am a lone man looking for a kingdom to serve, for something righteous and fair, a Kingdom who's royalty treats their people with fairness and kindness."

A beaten and worn-down Ashera runs out of the undergrowth, and into a swampy, dim town. As she looks around, seemingly disgusted at both the damp, dingy sight of the settlement, and the strong scent of wet moss radiating throughout it, something catches her eye. A tent, illuminated by a faint glow. Without hesitation, she approaches it, lowering her head slowly and stepping inside, only to find a series of candles suspended in the air, and an old hag at the other end. No turning back. The hag raises her head, meeting Ashera's cold gaze. "You. What brings you to this dingy town?" she begins, before pausing to study Ashera's broken appearance. The old hag notices a worn knife by Ashera's side, as well as a shattered bow in her hand, and a quiver on her back, held together by mere threads... She'd then lock eyes with Ashera. ”Hm. I’ve been expecting someone like you. Have a seat, and listen to everything I say.” she gestures at a cushion opposite, opening her mouth to speak once more. "Tell me your story. What brings a person like you here?” Without any other option, Ashera slowly steps towards the hag. 'Just in and out. Time is precious.' she thought to herself. She then spoke. "I'd prefer to stand than sit on... that." She spoke with even more disgust in her voice. "No need to be so high and mighty, Elf. Tell me why you're here." As she spoke, her chair would creak as a grin took over her face. Clearly, she knows something Ashera doesn't... "I need the whereabouts of my younger brother. He looks similar to me, and he's also battle-worn, unlike yaself. Just passed through 'ere a while ago, I think." "Ah, that coward-?" Ashera would cut off the old hag suddenly, seemingly infuriated by this comment. She scans her newfound target, letting words flow out of her mouth. "COWARD? Ya wanna repeat that? Be my guest." She'd look down to her dagger, then back up to meet the old hag's gaze... "If you want what you seek, I would suggest you refrain from letting loose your... violent tendencies. Now, tell me what I wish to hear." Ashera calms herself and reluctantly agrees, clearing her throat to speak. "Don't ask for further detail, yeah? I don't got time like ya do yaself. I'm a High Elf, who was born into a low place. I don't know my parents all that well... lost 'em to the sea. My brother's the only person I got. And if you're wonderin' why I look the way I do, it's because me and my brother're undertakin' a tough bounty. Blood isn't a new sight, and fightin's what we know best... aside from the importance of companions and a good drink. And now, it's ya turn. Tell me what I needa know." The hag clears her throat, ready to tell Ashera what she wants to hear. "Hm. You actually are the person I was told about from my previous visitor." The hag got up, slowly walking towards the tent's entrance. She'd gesture towards a chest on her left as she stepped. "Take the bow in that old box. There should be bandages in there as well, and maybe some food. Nothing fancy enough for your standards, though." Eventually, the hag reached the exit, before taking a few more steps outside. "Remember to share." She looks out and away from the tent. Ashera cautiously approached the chest, swinging the lid open after. She'd discard her broken bow, picking up the new one, inspecting it for damage. She focuses her attention onto two lonely bandages, laying at the bottom, next to some wrapped up bread. She reaches her hand out, scooping up the supplies and throwing them into her pack. After, she walks to the hag, awaiting her next line.

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 awoke in a forest which felt familiar, bright colors and thick canopy. I hadn't remembered me name, the last thing I remember before I woke up was bones; and so I call m'self Bones. I also remember the sea. I have not coin to my name and don't know where I am now, could ye help me? "The smithies that way if you need a tool, the bar is thataway if you want to clear your mind." Thank ye kindly.