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?))
Ander began thinking of his story, it began about four years ago, when he had first left his home. He had never cared much for the simple lifestyle his parents lived, he dreamed of greater things, and all who met him saw that. If you asked them about Ander, they would all say there was something special about him. That he was destined for something. So, Ander left, imagining everything he would do. He faced many perils on the road, and he overcame them all. But when it came to his final challenge, the most important one of all, he failed. Falling from the glory of those who held him in awe, the spark inside of him faded away. He was not empty though, the spark was replaced with a growing, raving, madness. His wounds healed, but the madness never faded. As all this flashed through his mind, he turned toward the old woman. He lunged forward, attacking her. And he knew, from this moment forward, he, alone, would ask the questions. And all of them, those who turned away when he fell. They would answer. THEY WOULD ALL ANSWER HIS CALL OF VENGENCE!
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