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?)) "Oh! Hallo Ma'am!" *He smiles delightedly through his beard, his teeth crooked but clean.* "I seek community! My family has a tradition of sending off the youth in order to bring us new experiences, and it has finally come around to me! I'm glad to make your acquaintance. I am Deanvar, of the dwarven clans of Herth. I am a miner and digger by trade, and I love nothing more than a deep and thoroughly mysterious cave to dive into. I also love a good pint- with friends of course."
