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?))
Example:
"Well, I've come to avenge my family, and I've become an assassin barely scrapping by day by day. *I clench my hand aggravated* and I won't stop until I find the man who slaughtered my family. *I say with a serious expression*. I have been hunting him down for the past twenty-five years and still no luck. I came to this town hoping for some luck to find him, or someone who knows where he is. He might even be dead now I was sure he is human after all, but you never know. *I sip on a flask of some herbal tea* The thing is I am getting old I'm one-hundred and thirty-five years old I have about sixty-five years left, and I am worried that he'll die of old age before I can get my revenge. *I take down my hood* If you know anything or hear anything about a man who kills elves, please I beg you to tell me. *I look at her with eyes of sorrow from having to recall the past*"
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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