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?))
"What do you want?," he inquire gruffly "I'm sorry, its just... I haven't met a person who hasn't tried to kill me or steal from me for... a long time."
He thought for a few seconds, considering his options.
"Get me some bread and mead." I command, "I'm very hungry.... I've been travelling for days, since the old southern horde, my home, was destroyed. It was a beautiful place; there were the twin mountains of Krox and Cyrax. I will forever remember the way in which the evening light scattered of their peaks, tinging the sky; the sea and everything in-between the most vivid pink you would have ever seen. And the sea of Pahhran. Ever since I was a child I looked out across that sea in wonder. The pure scale of its expanse was terrifying and alluring. There was a reason why my people livid upon it's shoreline."
He was lost in thought, his eyes starring into the depths of the Pahhran sea. But he wasn't home, he was here. He gritted my teeth, as he was reminded of the horrific reality.
"But thats all gone now"
