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?))
"o-oh um...just sight seeing hehe" MeepMorp chuckles awkwardly and scrambles onto the cushion. She knew the irony of her words but lying came as easy as breathing. "I am from far up north, yes...A fancy noble place called uh....Th-under the B-Ridge!". The hag gave MeepMorp a deadpan look and she clears her throat knowing she won't get out of this. "I am from Númendil, actually I'm the most talented inventor in the land!" MeepMorp pulls out a pepperbox which is falling apart,despite her potential she definitely is not the most talented in her homeland but her prideful smile tells that she believes every word she says. "My parents would disagree with that statement...considering they left me behind on a stone bridge after blowing up the kitchen once, hehe" She smiles awkwardly and fiddles with gears from the pepperbox. "Though I think it was quite impressive! I was only five years of age at the time hehe...he" MeepMorp stops rambling when she realizes just how much she's overshared.
