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?)) "*sigh" It's been a long journey..." he says while rethinking his past, "I was born in the Adunian Race, but I was probably the weakest one, so I was never sent to battle, unfortunately that didn't make my father happy." he tells the old hag while sitting in the cushion, "To replace my strength I guess I was born with a lot of talent for creating though" he starts to relive his life while saying it and starts to gaze off as the image of his life start to be clearer in his mind, "I was always very good at making boats, or water wheels, I even read a book about how to make golems, but my father was never happy about it, he wanted me to be a warrior, he said it was our destiny." coming back to reality, he gazes back into the old hag's eyes and, with a serious tone says "But now he can't stop me, I left my village and will make my life my own, I will explore this world, every single corner of it and find myself in it".
