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?))
He looks at the cushion with a sign of disgust and after thinking about it he sits on it. Then he puts on some gloves and finally answer "You probably already know my name, but just in case, my name is Isaac Vinuv, I come from a small town, or rather, a big village called Uruk. You probably already know what I want, power and freedom, what I want that for is not something I'm willing to mention."
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