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: Gala glances about the interior of the tent, and pointedly to the hovering candles before turning to the woman, and flashing a politician's smile, "About time somebody around here recognized me!" He laughed, and sat at the cusion to lean his elbows against the table in front of him, folding his hands like a bridge under his chin, "Well, well, jokes aside... I hope I haven't kept you too long. However I must admit, I wasn't aware I was expected for a regaling of my exploits..." he hummed and then gave a long exhale as he leant back, "The truth of the matter is, I've hardly a story to tell. My life is one filled with galavantry and daring, of course, but... Hardly anything for storybooks, nevermind the privellege of the rightful throne I was jettisoned away from taking, to here..." he scoffed and turned to his side, staring up at floating candle, "Isn't that laughable? MY advisors think I'M too inexperienced to... Do the thing I was born to do in the first place?! Well, when I bring back a story I can put in the storybooks, they'll eat their words... Just, sort of wish I still had my squire to go find me something exciting... Or a horse to ride up into a castle to impress a princess on, or... Money," He sighed. "Gah-- wait, I'm not supposed to be paying you at all, am I?"
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