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?))
I let out a small grunt as I settle onto the stump that the hag gestured to. My back still hasn't fully recovered from the fall last week.
"I was told that you could provide an adventure unparalleled by any other, and that is exactly what I seek."
I don't quite know what to say aside from that, so I settle in with a small shrug, my eyes looking lost. Small talk has never been my strong suit.
"Oh come now," the hag cackles, "One worthy to undertake this adventure must be someone made of steel, forged in the fires of adversity, and sharpened by countless near-death experiences. Tell me, boy... Why should I bestow the honor of this adventure upon you?" She leaned in, the small fire casting shadows on her deep-set wrinkled face. "What makes you worthy?"
I sigh lightly, and stand up. I retrieve the crossbow from my back and ready it. The hag squints in mystery and confusion. I take aim in the darkness behind her and send an arrow into the void. A muddy *thud* is heard, and just as she turns to inspect the noise, the slain bog creature falls flat onto the ground at her feet, the bolt firmly between its eyes. As I re-sling my bow, a small smirk flashes across my face and I turn to the old woman.
"Well, have we got a deal?"
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