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?))
She sat down on the cushion, shivered as she began to speak, unsure of how to tell her past and her life before running away 2 months ago from a place she used to call home.
"If you are so interested in the story, sit down cause it's long... In the heart of a forest, in a small human village, lived me and my mother. As I grew up, I was mocked and made fun of by the other kids in the village. I tried to befriend them, but no-one was interested because I was "different" from them. One day, my mother told me to go get some water from the well, as I returned home, I dropped the bucket and horror filled my eyes as I saw my home ablaze. The villagers had lit torches and were surrounding my home. I decided to run as fast as my legs could take me. I decided that the only way to live is on my own and that I didn't need anyone but myself."
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