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?))
Brynjolf slowly sits down. He takes a deep breath and sighesa.
"My whole life has turned to ashes in a matter of weeks, old hag. My newborn son and my wife, died, in our house as it burned down, the roof collapsed on them, crushing them, and the flames took care of what was left of them. I tried to save them, believe me, old hag." He rolled up his sleeves, revealing severe burn marks all over his arms.
"The memory of their screams echoing and the cries of my newborn son, haunts me, day as night. But I need to push forward, I need to fight. For them. Old hag, I heard you know some people that might be in need of a talented blacksmith. I am that person, I take pride in my work, as I should. It's not just blades and armors, It's art. Art worth paying for, and I need the money, I need a home." Brynjolf stands up and walks slowly towards the exit of the tent. ”Old hag.” He looks back.
"When you have talked to them, you know where to find me"
