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?))
My eyes widen with a bit of shock and awe. "Who was this person? What did they want from me? How did they now me?" I think to myself as I slowly set down my lightweight bag on the ground with a the slight 'thump'.
"...If you want me to tell you my story on how I got here... or how I managed to survive for this long... we should prepare some tea... this may take a while..." I say this as I pull out a teapot from my bag with a calm smile.
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