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: Sa'Nime straightens upright before the elder one, knowingly under her steady gaze. For a moment, she'd almost forgotten her practiced introduction, now fumbling through her little satchel in search for a carefully wrapped vial. A tincture, made by hers truly in her quest to understand medicinal herbs and their properties. After procuring it, Sa'Nime also reaches behind her head, untying a dingy cream ribbon that held her wilily bundle of coppered hair. With a deep bow, the little one presented both items to the crone, speaking in a very unusual Kha-like accent,"Pactia.. From Sa'Ni-" She cuts herself off, shaking off her old speech habits. "From my Munna, ne ask for your aid. Long have ne traveled, and long still ne have to go. Ne am Sa'Nime, born of Forested Dwedmar, but-" She raises her head, her good eye misting a bit. "Raised strong of Dra'Chimalli, nehuatl Munna, and ne proud of who ne am. Ne askin' to know where my path goes to further my journey. Even if Dra'Chimalli can not be here to see any more, ne feels she still guided me here."
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