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?))
"Expecting me?" He questions, raising his eyebrow as he hesitantly takes a seat on the cushion. He only glanced at the seemingly decrepit woman before clearing his throat. "Well, I am here on the look out for treasures. gold, jewels, trinkets. no matter." He seemed to ease as he settled into the small cushion. "Many seem to think my searches are in vain, though I do not seek riches for my vanity as I carry them for a friend back homeward." He gestures a bit lazily westward.
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