VeryySpook

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.” After Kleon enters the tent, he points at himself and looks behind him "me?" he exclaims. Seeing no one behind him, he shrugs and plants himself down on the cushion. "A'ight then.. I was raised by me father. My ol' lad was a blacksmith and I trained under 'im since boyhood. We lived in a small town, a great distance away" Kleon shifts in his seat, he took up a lot of space in the enclosed tent. "I grew tired of it.. I wanted to see the world.. to learn about different cultures. I always envied the travellers and monks that would stop by in our town... So I left. With nothin' but a pack and a sword I can barely use" He started to feel uneasy and claustrophobic, he started talking a lot faster. "And now I'm here.. now if you'll excuse me, madam" He stood up quickly, dusting himself off. "I'd like to find a place to rest before night fall, could you point me to the nearest tavern?"