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?)) "My name is Kyer," He sits on the cushion. "I once lived on a farm with my parents, it was a peaceful life of solitude until Mori'Quessar conquered. We tried to flee, but we were chased down. My father distracted them long enough for my mother and I to escape, but he was stuck down in the process. We arrived at the Failor safely, but my mother fell sick soon after. The local healers called it heartbreak sickness, she didn't even last a full moon cycle. I remember it like it happened moments ago, with her last breath she whispered to me that I was truly born of elves, but they found me in the woods as a baby and took me as there own. I've seeked you out because I believe that you can aid me in my journey of find more about my true parents."
