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?))
"As a child, I was raised to know the difference between right and wrong, which most would. However, the more I discussed with people," He paused and chuckled a tiny bit, "the more I discovered that my morals were way different from other people's. For example, it is common that people say that the dead should be allowed to Rest. Sometimes even have great honors." He shrugged, sort of flew his arms up into the air, and rolled his head around in a sort of disbelief. "In my eyes, the dead are dead. Honor no longer applies. This belief of mine, many didn't like. So I've been stuck traveling far and few between instead of staying in one particular place." While he was saying the last sentence, he sort of imitated walking with 2 fingers with one hand on the palm of the other. At times, he even imitated the change of direction. "I've found myself in very little problems and very little quarrels. My travels have shown me that there are differences between many different people and some of my beliefs being blatant falsehoods. Sort of a missionary journey without a mission now that I think about it. Although, I've been looking into Necromancy lessons..." As he drew his story to a close, he chuckled a little bit.
