That Mean Sheep

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?)) The bearded man would unhesitatingly launch into what promises to be his life story. "I was born a Highlander, but as I was unsuited to physical labor, I was of little value within that society. I then decided to pursue something that required less vigor. In no time, I became a master alchemist. I once made a concoction of hyacinth steeped in water. Everyone said that it was just weak tea, but I knew better. It was a potion! I called it Aloysium. Like Aloysius. That's me. Grizel Aloysius--Master Grizel Aloysius. I was sadly forced to leave, since I found a spider in my room--I mean, lab. Not that I'm afraid of spiders," the man clarifies hastily, "I just find them..." he pauses for a long while, visibly searching for a good word, "...messy. After leaving, I decided to seek someone who could demonstrate the minutiae of alchemy. Only the finer points, of course; I need no instruction in the rest." The man then nods, clearly satisfied with his spiel.