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?))
Erling stumbled towards the cushion, almost collapsing onto it. His expression was haunted by exhaustion, and his lips cracked with thirst. "My village.." Erling began, his voice strangled by the despair of loss. "We were attacked by raiders..." -- "They razed it all to the ground..." His eyes fell onto his hands, as if the scene unfolded in his palms as he spoke about it. The vivid image of it all still in his mind. "My father... Lost his life protecting me." Guilt clung to his words. "I shouldn't have hesitated... My mother and my sister as well, they were taken away, and I hid..." Erling's gaze slowly rose to meet the old hag's, there was desperation in his eyes. "Do you have... Food and water to spare?.. I must continue or else I'll lose track of them.."
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