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?))
Renault pushes the visor of his sallet upwards, the worn bolts protesting against the movement. His light blue eyes study the hag for a brief moment before he starts, "My apologies for the intrusion... As you know, I've come a long way, traveled further than I had intended, and now? I merely am looking for a place to settle, perhaps set roots and make a name for myself." He shrugs, the chainmail under his cloak rattling quietly as he rolls his shoulders, "Or, maybe this will just be yet another stepping stone on my journey, I've yet to truly decide but time will tell. My thanks for the hospitality, not many would take an acquaintance into their home, even if it is only for a short time." He offered a tired look and an equally tired smile to the woman.
