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?)) Greetings! I am Zaviyar. I enjoy creating financial luxury for myself. Selling things is very profitable. Fine exotic wares from another place a great place to acquire currency! People who are unaware of the true value of these items could potentially pay more for these goods! I have spent my days traveling from one place to another creating a path to economic godhood. "Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
