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.”
"so you were expeting me, huh" you shrug. You look around the tent and your thirst from your long journey hits "Hey volva, you got anything to drink around here, ive been traveling for days"
after getting something to drink i said in a serious voice " I was sent here to gain experiane against horrid creatures, and to deepen my combat effectiveness against the creatures of the dark"
I take another sip from my cup and continue my story " I used to be a hunter before i started my travells, but one day i came back to a enourmous fire, swallowing large parts of the village and its inhabitatants. The local volva, seeres or witch if you prefeer, came to me whilst i was stopping the fire and said that a war will one day come, so go and prepare for the coming fight" Whilst we were talking a distent bell could be heard, and the sounds of marching could ever so faintly be heard in the distence.
