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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?))

Ainsley made her way to the cushion and sat down, not making eye contact with the old hag. “My story?” She began, her voice trembling. “It really is a long story, you see… but I can give you the cliff notes.” She cleared her throat and adjusted herself on the seat. “My mother… dead. Not sure how, though. My father said it was because of her health but I highly doubt that, as she never got sick. I started doing research about what happened to her, as any curious daughter would and then suddenly my dad went missing. So now, I’m on a mission to find both my mom and dad. In the back of my mind, I wonder if my dad something to do with my mother’s so called death… or maybe he got caught up in the same business she was in…”