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?))
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… I spoke, "I come searching riches and glory like most adventurers. I have come from Adria, having spent the past couple years as a humble man with no purpose other than to work and feed my mother. But she passed away not long ago. I want to become rich and show my mother that she raised me good. I also seek to gain some form of power one day, to rule a small group of people or to maybe own a large piece of land. But right now, all I need is for you to tell me, where to start."
