Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
*Mal stutters slightly as she takes a seat.* "W-well, I've been on the road some time, and this... " *Mal pauses for a moment.* "... t-town... happened across my path just as a finished off the last of my rashions. It's been awhile since I've seen another face." *She stares off blankly before resuming.* "I left my home at a young age after a petty arguement with my kin, and for years now I've been wandering, hopping from carivan to carivan. It's been a good few weeks since I last accompined one." *She looks down.* "I suppose it's time to set my eyes on a new carivan to follow, or maybe it's time to renter normal society."
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