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?))
lyght gently sits down on the cushion. he looked around the room. not seeing anything that would indicate immerit danger he deiced to speak up. "well when I was younger I was apparently stolen by bandits...but as long as I can remember I lived with my master atop a mountain" lyght quickly shot up franticly moving his hands as he spoke " he told me the story of how he saved me from the bandits oh what a great story it was" he visually became more excited as he spoke about his former master. telling tales of there time on the mountain. until he stopped he slumped down slightly and his face became notably less vibrant "..however he just passed away not to long ago... he saved me... taught me so much... he is in a better place now I hope" lyght began walking back to the hag and sat down once more one again in his bright vibrant manner "how about you what's your story" he said in his now restored chipper tone.

Recommended Comments