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?))
Ori shifted himself carefully infront of the hag, his bag of knickknacks, tools, and other equipment of survival carefully removed and set next to him. A flickering gaze across the hag, ever so untrusting of those that he did not know, but ultimately, he relented. "I hail from the deepest cuts of of Aos and Eos. My father was a blacksmith, my father's father was a blacksmith, and his father before him was a blacksmith. I am simply a blacksmith's son, tired of the monotony of life in my people's hold. I seek to see what else is to life, before I return to the deepest quarries. I am not a man of wonder, of spectacle, of lionheart, nor ability, but with what I lack, I make-up with will, and the desire to learn. This world has many untold stories, and I wish to learn more of them before I retreat back to the depths. "
