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?)) "Well...", Artin pauses to think for a moment and then continues with, "I've lived my entire life inside the mountains with my family. Both my mother and Father had when to get some milk from the nearby village... after they went to the village they never came back. So I've been looking for them for almost a month now. I miss home and my parents dearly. Have you seen two dwarfs recently?"
