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?)) Reard: Well met. Name's Reard Woffst, merchant 'round Norland. Do'ya mind s'plaining what 'appenned 'round 'ere?
......
Reard: Yea, suppose it don't matter ann'more, so my story? T'is a simple one. Me pops and I travelled across the world as long as I cannie remember, never known me ma, but no skin off m' back. The ol' man passed all his tips & tricks ont'a me, an' I'm continuing his journey ta spread the name of Woffst! That was the plan ann'way... Ya see, I'm ney speaker like me da, 'n sellin me wares isn't workin out. Aye, gettin' tired and old, I should'be lookin for a fair consort. Shucks, me' apologies for chattin' yer ear off, i'll take my leave.
-Reard leaves content after bearing the thoughts he didn't want to admit to the hushed woman-
