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.”
He would then take a seat, sitting adjacent from the old hag as he clasped his hands and rested his forearm on a table "I am from the southern lands in Balian, and own a cottage and ten acres of farmland. There, my brother, and my two siblings tend to the fields left to us by my deceased parents." he said, hesitating slightly before continuing "As I said, I was sent to search for you o' wise one. We're poor, and our farm is becoming derelict, we were told that you had magical powers to return the fertility to our crops. Will you do this for us?" Example:
"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…
