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?)) "you've been expecting me...?" Borvag's eyes dart around the room looking for any signs of danger. "Well however you knew about me I guess I could tell you a bit about myself." Borvag hesitantly takes a seat on the cushion "I was born in the outskirts of the capital of Haense, but I don't remember much of my time there. In my earliest memories I was already a part of my mercenary group learning how to fight and how best to stay alive. I've learned much about the world during my travels, but I've mostly been focused on the people, learning how they think." Borvag sighs and hesitates for a moment, "I've used my wits to stay alive this long, but most of my crew wasn't so lucky. The group finally disbanded a few months ago and since then I've been looking for somewhere quiet to settle down in. I've been travelling for a while and haven't found a suitable place yet. Is there possibly a place for me in this village?"
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