HortonHeardAWho

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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?)) For a moment Grot pauses, and then he offers a toothey grin as he pushes the rags aside and enters the tent. "Story? No, ze bow before mi. Lats' land iz mine now. Latz am tributary uf Lak now. Da swamp iz rightfully deyrs n' dey take what dey want." — "If lat not den... LAT. AM. SACRIFIYC. to LAKLUL!" Vulgar war cries pierce the sanctuary of the lady's home. With it does the cold air, blowing aside the drapes and exposing Grot's glare. Then, as if nothing happens, he takes a seat across from the hag and begins, "Well, mi momma tossed me away after she said me am week. Papa left long time ago... Now me am here, in diz warband." — His eyes dart back and forth as he looks for something to munch on, eventually finding nothing and snacking on jerky from his own personal stash (pocket) — "So me do da biddin' of da Lakz. 'Till me strong enough to stand by miself!" Omg sorry for sounding like an NPC uwu teehee rawr xd~~ Also backstory is not an explicit req. (can't read minds bro)