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?)) 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…
"well I'm a halfling. I am from a small village far from here. I left to make money for I want to see what the world has to offer. not but 2 days in to my journeys I find this man called Akseli Halbred he was under a bridge it was poring down rain and he was hugger so I gave him food and a blanket. he then told me about his life and I felt poor in the hear I had had so much love and food when I was his age. so I set out to help him how ever I could so that he mite know what the love of a brother is like now where is he so we mite get back to our journeys." I said calmy to the women at the end of the tent as I slowly pull my knife from out of my bag. as I waited for an answer.
