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?)) Marcus pauses as the elder figure's attention is set upon him. A light frown draws briefly across his lips before he shakes his head. "I fear you've mistaken me for another..." Another pause is given to the old woman, though it seemed he was still intent to speak. His eyes scanned through the old crone's tent before he finally refixed his gaze upon her. "I'm but a courier, madam." His gloved hand lifts from his side to draw back his hood. "If it so interests you though, I suppose I could spare some time for you. I have spent much of my life in my birthplace, Haense. Though I yearned for the outside world, cooped up in a grand city's walls is only so interesting for so long. So my father gifted me the coin necessary to get out into the world. I'd gotten a new pair of shoes and a pack, and set out. I've been delivering packages all through the region ever since. - You see you may have me mistaken, then? I'm but a simple man, my life is of little interest to anybody." With a nod and a smile he carried on. "So, I don't suppose you know of a miller in this area, do you? I've a package to deliver after all."
