bowie_bow

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?)) Maeve glanced around the tent as she slipped inside, the end of her dress caked in dirt and mud from her long journey. Warily, she sunk into the cushion, folding her legs beneath her dress. "Thank you, ma'am," she pinched the hem of her hood between her fingers, pulling it down to reveal her face. "My story is nothing special. I hail from a town quite like this one, specifically a fish town. I took up a career in a local apothecary while I attempted to study magic, in hopes of harnessing a great power that could help the world. For now, though, I'm looking to make some money. Know of any guilds in search of healers?"