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.”
He furrows his brow, "Wha'? You 'ave? Ah mean.. shore.." Plonking himself down onto the cushion, "Well, wivou' goin' too much intah detail, Ah'm an 'Ammerfist." He reaches into a bag, stuffing a bread roll into his mouth, and speaks through mouthfuls, "Ah'm.. Lookin' .. Fer a stone, precious i' is. Said t' be 'eld somewhere.. 'ere.." - Crumbs spray as he talks, and he thinks for a moment, before swallowing and adding - "Izzat 'ow ya were expectin me? Per'aps yers 'as gotten word orrus? Maybe.. Yers don' wanna hand o'er ya stone!" He exclaims, standing up swiftly, his armour clanking.
