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.”
(("You were?" Tyler would question, unsure if he were safe. "How do you know me?" He'd ask. (If given a reason) Tyler still uneasy taken the invitation and proceeded to weave his tail so far. Telling of coming from a nation far away, coming to Aevos in search of adventure and fame. Taking small comfort in the elderly woman's listening gaze. Now did I just sell my soul. He thought, but stuffed it down. What could possibly go wrong?
Recommended Comments