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 look back at the old hag as I take a seat, intrigued, yet showing no emotion. "I am Kymil, son of-" I pause for a moment before continuing. "I am Kymil Liaris, a mercenary in search of work and shelter." Having stated all that I plan on sharing, I contently look around the tent as the old hag continues to study my face. I give one final nod to the hag who is visibly deep in thought before getting back up and walking away from the tent and deeper into the town...
