DunidhDidntDoIt

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?)) Dunidh sits with a grateful thump, leaves scattering around him. The expectant hag clears her throat, grabbing the dwarf's attention. Her eyes stare holes in his leafy exterior and with noticeable confusion he stares back. "Your story?" The hag croaks at him. "Ha! Sorry!" He replies with a startled exclamation, "Ah' uh... don't 'member much. Ah' think maybe, ah' may done hit my head real hard." The frantic, timid dwarf mumbles to himself in his odd accent, attempting to collect his thoughts. The hag looks at him and thinks to herself that he could easily be mistaken to be a roadside bush with the amount of greenery and trash on him. His only signs of life his leather mittens and green braided beard jutting out from his concealed hood of moss. "After all mah' many years in the big green, ah've never done... Properly... 'Interact' with ya'll organized folk. Ah' thought, maybe... It might bring somethin' a little more interestin' into the borin' of mah' life," he continues, "All these years in them woods gets real... lonely." "What made you go the woods to begin with?" She asks. "Well... Like ah' said, mah' memories a bit messy. Ah' don't 'member much of nothin' any long time back. But coming into the world ah' hope... ah' hope to make thins' worth 'memberin." He looked up at her and even though his face was fully covered she could tell he was smiling.

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?)) Dunidh sits with a grateful thump, leaves scattering around him. The expectant hag clears her throat, grabbing the dwarf's attention. Her eyes stare holes in his leafy exterior and with noticeable confusion he stares back. "Your story?" The hag croaks at him. "Ha! Sorry!" He replies with a startled exclamation, "Ah' uh... don't 'member much. Ah' think maybe, ah' may done hit my head real hard." The frantic, timid dwarf mumbles to himself in his odd accent, attempting to collect his thoughts. The hag looks at him and thinks to herself that he could easily be mistaken to be a roadside bush with the amount of greenery and trash on him. His only signs of life his leather mittens and green braided beard jutting out from his concealed hood of moss. "After all mah' many years in the big green, ah've never done... Properly... 'Interact' with ya'll organized folk. Ah' thought, maybe... It might bring somethin' a little more interestin' into the borin' of mah' life," he continues, "All these years in them woods gets real... lonely." "What made you go the woods to begin with?" She asks. "Well... Like ah' said, mah' memories a bit messy. Ah' don't 'member much of nothin' any long time back. But coming into the world ah' hope... ah' hope to make thins' worth 'memberin." He looked up at her and even though his face was fully covered she could tell he was smiling.

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?)) Dunee sits with a grateful thump, leaves scattering around him. The expectant hag clears her throat, grabbing the dwarf's attention. Her eyes stare holes in his leafy exterior and with noticeable confusion he stares back. "Your story?" The hag croaks at him. "Ha! Sorry!" He replies with a startled exclamation, "Ah' uh... don't 'member much. Ah' think maybe, ah' may done hit my head real hard." The frantic, timid dwarf mumbles to himself in his odd accent, attempting to collect his thoughts. The hag looks at him and thinks to herself that he could easily be mistaken to be a roadside bush with the amount of greenery and trash on him. His only signs of life his leather mittens and green braided beard jutting out from his concealed hood of moss. "After all mah' many years in the big green, ah've never done... Properly... 'Interact' with ya'll organized folk. Ah' thought, maybe... It might bring somethin' a little more interestin' into the borin' of mah' life," he continues, "All these years in them woods gets real... lonely." "What made you go the woods to begin with?" She asks. "Well... Like ah' said, mah' memories a bit messy. Ah' don't 'member much of nothin' any long time back. But coming into the world ah' hope... ah' hope to make thins' worth 'memberin." He looked up at her and even though his face was fully covered she could tell he was smiling.