TehStego

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?)) Kharela looks at the cushion hesitantly before having a seat "Well I- its not something I enjoy speaking off." As she speaks her voice comes out soft, slightly low, and raspy. "But I guess if you really want to know..." Kharela's eyes look at the floor as she begins to tell her story "I was not born into a clan, tribe, whatever you want to call it, like most orcs. My parents tried to be peaceful in place that saw them as the opposite. We move around a lot, they taught me how to speak common well enough to get by. My father taught me how to fight for self defense, and to hunt for food of course. Every time we trained I felt this intense rage build up inside of me that I tried to keep under wraps..." She freezes for a moment, stuck in a memory she would've rather forgotten "Anyways I decided to travel the world on my own, a nomad sort of. I um-I'm done talking now." Kharela sits patiently, unsure of what the hag will say, or what is going to happen next-