Friskits

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?))

"Expecting me? This one is confused." The small goblin would look very warily at the old hag for a moment or two before making their way to the cushion, crouching awkwardly above it in case they needed to run away quickly. "This one's story? You want to hear it?" They look excited, almost like a puppy who's getting a new chew toy to play with. Not even giving the old hag a moment to speak they continue. "This one's story start in a massive hole in the ground filled with this one's family and friends. This one had many brothers and sisters and was the youngest of all of them." They stop for a moment to take a breath before continuing on their excited ramble of a story. "One day humans came to fight and attacked this one's family, killing everyone this one loves for no reason. Of course this one fled into the darkness of the nearby forest and found another hole to live. yes yes." They looked thoughtful for a moment, as if unsure of what they remembered next was even real. "There was a skeleton? A goblin shaped one, yes yes. It came to life and this one made friends with it. We stole many things from people and caused much chaos for others." They grinned a wide smile, looking very proud of themselves. "Then this one found you and your comfy cushion." They then grabbed the cushion and made a hasty retreat, it tightly gripped to their chest like a prize of conquest.