Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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 story?” I say, exhaling the swamp air from my lungs. “It’s shorter than you’d think, and heavier than I’d like.”
He sits up slightly while folding his hands and trying to withstand that rotten smell. "i grew up in a small village on top of a beautiful mountain with two loving parents"
He said while dropping his head. "life was simple and filled with happiness until..."
tears start trickling down his face while he ball's his fists up. "my village was raided by a bunch of savages and i stood there and watched filled with fear and panic while my entire family and a bunch of my friends were slaughtered" He picks his head back up and wipes the tears from his face. "i'm ashamed of myself for not stepping up and helping my family and friends when they needed me the most and maybe the outcome would've been the same but me standing around safe and sound while everyone i care about gets murdered around me.... that will never happen again"
Recommended Comments