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.”
"My story? Several events have led me to this town and several more events will chase me down once I depart - and now I need assistance," a goblin woman spoke with a hood obscuring defining facial features. "Y' seem to already know who I am, so let's cut the chase here. You've heard of the invasion up north, yeah?" She seated; legs crossed. "The site up north's got resources. They stole from us decades ago, and are now playin' the victim. I need your help to teach 'em a lesson." She pulled back the hood, revealing a gnarled scar from the corner of her lip up to her ear. "A lesson they won't forget."
