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?)) The old man, who was pushing the woman away with his cane, interjected, "Arrgh - I just got 'ere, woman, 'ow about offering me something to eat before you continue to poke my h'ead, you idiot!" and then looked around. After settling down on the cushion she shows him, he leans back and takes off his mushroom hat and puts it on his lap. He sighs and says "Hmph'- Why the h'ell are you still standing there! I'm starving!" He makes a fist with his small hand and bangs it on the table. The impatient old man fumbles in his fanny pack and pulls out his canteen, rudely uncorks it and starts sipping, finishes the contents, pushes the canteen aside, wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and interjects. "I worked my ass off to get h'ere! Why on earth did I leave my quiet life in H'efrumm and come here!" The angry old man wasn't even looking for an excuse to tease. "This damned, mossy shit'ole is going to make me rich. It 'as to! I didn't come all this way for nothing, understand?". The old man radiated negativity: "Now show me a tavern or, I don't know, any business and I'll start making money!"
