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?))
"It is a long and bland tale..." She waved her hands as if attempting to swat the question away, her calm demeanor betrayed by the pain in her eye's. "If I had to sum it up, it'd go something like this; I've been drifting since I was a young lass, parents killed in skirmish between two long forgotten clans. I grew up wandering from town to town, hunting, gathering and stealing what ever I needed to wake up the next day." She paused contemplating how much to was appropriate to tell the lady. "I'm looking for work now, hunting folks down for the highest bidder. That's all you need to know."
