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 coldly glace at the old hag. "My name is Seros Dundrai, I come from a far away town, populated by dark elves. My family was casted away from the city following a bloody civil war". I look away in nervousness. "We now live in peace in our small town and mostly keep to ourselves, hunting and farming for food". Looking back confidently at the old hag, "this is why I am here, to find a deeper purpose for my life". I wait for the woman's response.
