Brasshole

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 am Adimnos. First son of Underlord Thraven. I seek to prove myself to my father that I am one day worthy of his pride. I haven't always been an adventurer, I've wasted many years drinking and partying my life away. Good years, but I'm in my prime now and I seek glory and honor. To partake in a legendary feat so glorious that the skalds will sing of my heroism for centuries to come. That is why I am here hag.