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?))
Skrup sniffs the air, he likes the scent of garbage, it reminds him of himself. Skrup's attention snaps back to the strange crone. Not one for people, Skrup blankly stares at her, almost trying to ignore her presence. Blinking twice to break out of his trance, He shuffles towards the cushion and squats next to it. Twitching ever so slightly at the thought of her comment about expecting him to come, he finally opens his mouth. "I am here to sell ware. Tinker." he reaches into his strange pouch, and pulls out a strange metal cube. "My creation, yes? watch." he throws the cube at floor, where it shatters but makes a pitch perfect impression of a cat meowing. "See. Cat cube. I create.". Skrup takes another long pause, seemingly collecting his jumbled and messy thoughts. "I come from cave, It was just me. I make. I get bored. I leave to go find more to create more. I end up here, to create swamp creation.". He says, not to the woman but just, kind of in her general direction. Skrup decides he is bored of this conversation, and rises from his squat. "That is all.". Skrup walks to the nearby table, taking a loaf of bread and stuffing it in his pack of nefarious items, and turns. "Goodbye.".
