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?))
"Um, hi there," he mumbles awkwardly, stumbling over his words. "You expectet me, why is that so mam?" He tries straighten up but bump into the celing of the tent. "Oh, iam sorry mam. My story you want to here? Eh... sure: Well, I... I was born in the wilderness and yes... Abbie was it who found me and took me home to her. She fed me... yes every day. And... and she played with me as well as her friend... Grimm was his name. He called me Boulderfist because I was so strong. Hahaha." He laughs but then falls silent: "But then one day they disapeared. Abbie and Grimm disapeared. They weren´t theire anymore, do you understand mam?" he becomes watery eyes, "the masked mans killed them I knew it," he clenches his fists. " And then I went to theire camp and slougter them, i killed them all durning the night", he continues. Silence. "Then I fleed from this place... And since many years now I try to find a new home. I do every work i can. I just want a place i can call home."
