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 think about it for a second and take the deepest breath I ever have before and begin "I grew up in a poor household until the age of 11 when my parents were murdered leaving me to take care of my younger sister. we moved around a lot working for food and shelter when 2 years after the death of our parents my sister got sick. I worked harder than ever to male sure my sister had everything she needed to get better food, shelter, water, and medicine , but it wasn't meant to be because another year later she passed on. When that day came I hit an all time low, I was living on the streets only eating every few days when someone was kind enough to share. After a year of this I was taken in by a group of thieves and taught their ways. When I turned 18 I decided I wanted more for my life than being a thief so I told them I wanted out, that I wanted to be more than them. They beat me to where I couldn't even move and 6 months later they asked me if I still wanted to leave when I said yes they told me that if I ever returned they would imprison me and never be left alone for the rest of my days, so I left and since then I turned 19 and never gave returning a second thought" I breathe a sigh of relief and sit on the ground as I contemplate of how she is going to respond.
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