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?))
Example:
Looking up towards the suspended candles, you'd hear a shaky, ancient voice. Looking towards the back of the dimly lit tent, you'd see an old woman, wrinkled with age, muttering mystical words. Following her cryptic directions, you walk towards the worn cushion, lifting your heavy velvet dress so as not to wrinkle the intricate embroidery before sitting down with a small smile and opening your mouth, “My story? I’d like to learn magic with my husband we’ve been travelling together for some time now.”
Recommended Comments