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?))
"Well, uh, I need a job, need something to do. Ever since i felt the cold wind on me cheek, I helped people around my settlement. From running errands to carpenting, hunting or fending off some unwanted guests." Marnal stares at the hag and slowly sits on the cushion. Coughs a little from the candle smoke around. "Miss, my story is no legend. After a while, my father got slain in battle and an ilness claimed my mother. I took it as a sign that I should leave my home and start living on my own somewhere." He points his finger to the tent entrance. "From there, the tall mountains up north, I knew I had to go to a place more welcoming than them nasty rocks. People I passed by told me that if I continue walking down the road for a while, I´ll get to Norland. Not sure if I´m here, but maybe you might help me with that. Got some boar meat for your troubles. Amazing for a stew." Shuffles in his pack, and takes out a wrapped piece of boar leg.
