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?)) Ikarr's eyes widen in disbelief, as he pulls the chair towards himself and sits down. "Hello ma'am, I am a young farmer from the Principality of Reinmar. I have decided that I cant support my family, as the crops have done quite poorly this year. I've decided that I want to give more to Reinmar than wheat and potatoes. So, I've decided to become a soldier and serve with all of my ability. I am willing to lay my life on the line to provide for my family, and to bring honor to my homeland. Its simple, but my blade will not waiver on the battlefield when I remember what I'm fighting for."
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