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?))
"Been expecting me?", Rolf looks at the hag with a confused face mixed with disgust. Rolf takes a seat on the cushion and makes himself comfortable. "I got nothing else to do in this shit hole I suppose I could give a story". Rolf looks at the hag, "I suppose it started young nothing much, helping my father with his smith shop. Not that I was interested in the smithing, my mind was focused on something else, the blade.", Rolf draws his sword and lays it on his lap, staring at the cold steel. "I fell in love with the blade, I followed it, It trained it. Its bounds never show the end. My father was supportive of my dream of becoming a fighter. He knew when I was old and bitchy like him I would take the smith shop over. That leads me to here, somewhere far from home in a place I know nobody, a fresh start if you will.", Rolf sheathes his blade and stands heading towards the exit of the tent. "But that is enough out of me hag, unless you got business to sort out, **** off."
