grud

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?)) Erebos gave the witch a solemn nod of acknowledgement, silently strolling to the cushion and lowering himself atop it, gently brushing apart the hair before his eyes, and looking up to the hag. "Good day to you." His eyes narrowed, his core tensed, his shoulders retracting slightly in unease. "I am Erebos." He paused, seemingly awaiting a response. When none came, he continued. "I am a traveler of sorts." He shrugged, maintaining a cautious facade. "By fortune alone, that is. I spent several years in the service of soldiers in the pontifical states, scrubbing boots and polishing armor." He seemed a little apprehensive. "My leave arose from... theological disagreement with some of those that I attended. Alas," He sighed deeply, "A mere minor disagreement, but not one on which I was willing to concede on, and nor they, clearly." He motioned to himself with a somewhat exasperated manner. "Anyhow, stranger things have happened." He continued. "I've now nothing to do but the seeking of new servitude. I've a mind to approach Haense - perhaps I might find shelter there?"