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?))
Mordengraf enters the tent, as he confidently strides toward the Hag and sits on the cushion. "There is no story, hag, only a series of cursed luck. I am alone now. Alone, and lost. You may know my kind has long been consumed by bloodlust, one we sated through warring, and hunting. Of the latter, I gladly do, and do it well. But I would not fight those that have done me no wrong. I would not raid, nor war, nor destroy. For this, my clan deemed me weak," He pauses, to let the Hag speak. His voice shaking slightly, betraying the subtlest hint of vulnerability, and youth.
With the Hag's silent permission, he continues. "and I left, for they would have surely tried and culled me from their ranks. Even in my bloodlust I would not permit myself to slay those that had been my kin. I am no coward, hag. I'll fight to protect my people. But neither am I a wild beast who kill for the sake of killing. I'll sate my bloodlust through hunting, alone if I must. But you are a Hag. You know the land, and you know the way forward. Tell me... is there a place for me where I need not kill the innocent, where my bloodlust would not consume me? Or must I banish myself once more, and wander the land alone, without kin or clan ever again?"
