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?))
Boromir hesitates, his curly hair falling into his eyes as he glances between the hag and the tent entrance. His slim fingers fidget with the hem of his worn traveling cloak, a nervous habit he'd picked up during his recent journeys.
"I... well..." he starts, his voice trailing off. The young man takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'm a traveler, you could say a culture enthusiast," he finally admits, eyes meeting the hag's gaze with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "There's something intriguing about this town. I felt drawn to it, like a strange pull I can't explain as I journeyed. I don't know what it is, but..."
He pauses, remembering the disapproving looks of his parents back home when he'd announced his intention to explore new lands. "I had to come. To learn, to experience different cultures. My hometown felt too familiar, too predictable. This place, as strange as it is, it feels like... like I'm meant to discover something important here."
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