Herrudivah

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?)) "Goodness you're spooky!- Ahem! - Allow me to be honest, Lady er- . . ." He gestures awkwardly to the older woman before briefly clearing his throat, continuing. "Allow me to be honest, Madame. I have no clue as to why I am here." Darius stated, proceeding to crouch down, knee pressed to the tent's bedding. "I was merely looking for a place to swim, a waterhole. As reward for a good days work of well- . ." Darius pauses.. What was a good days work about sleeping and watching birds? ". . . I don't have much of a story, Madame, forgive me." A sharp exhale escaped his lips in an embarrassed sigh. "I am Darius, however everyone seems to call me 'dave' for short. I come from the Thornache family, son of Marius and Lucian Thornache and-" He pauses once more, trying to collect the very little thoughts he had swimming around. ". . . I make- shoes?" - "Either way- Do you know where the watering hole is..?"