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?))
As Margaery steps into the tattered tent, her delicate features remain composed despite the eerie surroundings. Feeling a mix of curiosity and caution, she carefully observes the mysterious woman before her.
"I come seeking guidance," Margaery begins softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet brimming with confidence. "I have traveled far and wide. My path has led me here, to this murky town" She pauses, her mesmerizing eyes locking with the old hag’s piercing gaze then she gracefully takes a seat on the cushion offered, her movements fluid and poised. "I hail from the lush valleys of the South, where sunlight dances upon fields of golden grain," She adds, a fondness evident in her voice. "My upbringing was marked by the warmth of family and the whispers of ancient traditions. My parents, humble yet wise, instilled in me a love for knowledge and a reverence for the unknown. But now, I find myself drawn to the enigmatic, seeking truths beyond the familiar comforts of home so, I've come to understand that I'm simply a traveler on this winding road, seeking meaning amidst the twists and turns" Margaery inquires, her curiosity tinged with a hint of anticipation.
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