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:
"Ah, greetings," I offer with a respectful nod as I step into the tattered tent, my voice carrying a tone of curiosity and reverence befitting the medieval times. "My name is Aria Moonshadow, a High Elf hailing from a distant village nestled deep within the ancient forests."
Taking in the dimly lit surroundings and the scent of rotted wood and wet moss, I continue, "My life unfolded within the tranquility of our secluded village, far removed from the bustling cities and citadels of our kind. Surrounded by the whispering trees and the gentle songs of the woodland creatures, I grew up in harmony with nature's rhythms."
"My parents, both esteemed High Elves, imparted upon me the values of our people," I explain, a sense of nostalgia coloring my words. "My mother's porcelain white skin and silvery hair, passed down through generations, marked her as a true Mali'thill, a pure-blooded High Elf."
"Under the tutelage of my father, a master archer and proud Mali’aheral, I learned the art of the bow," I continue, pride evident in my voice. "His guidance honed my skills, preparing me for the adventures that awaited beyond the borders of our village."
"Driven by a thirst for adventure and a longing to explore the vast unknown, I bid farewell to my home and embarked on a solitary journey," I confess, the memory of departure tinged with both excitement and trepidation. "Now, as I wander these distant lands alone, each step brings me closer to new experiences and untold adventures."
"As night descends upon this dim and swampy town, I find myself seeking refuge from the trials of the road," I conclude, a note of weariness creeping into my voice. "Though far from the sanctuary of my village, I hope to find solace and rest within the confines of this humble abode."
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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