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?))
"Oh, um," Aedora's mouth set into a straight line as she looked around the tent, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Tell me your story," the old hag encouraged. Aedora was confused. She had so many questions, but the only question muttered aloud was the woman's.
"Um, well, I don't really know you that much, so I don't think that it would...," Aedora looked at the woman, seemingly deep in thought, and after a little pause she announced, "hurt to tell you my whole life story!"
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