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?))
Timothy proceeds cautiously on the cushion, his boots squelching a bit due to being on damp ground. He wears a thoughtful look as he starts narrating his story. “Timothy, a lowly miner by profession, was attracted to this ghostly town by an underground voice of concealed treasures.” The tent was dim and he paused for a moment before saying: “He has been in the mine digging for years looking for gold and other ancient objects buried below.” His eyes went back to the old woman again: “But something about this place—the stench, the dark corners—seems to suggest that there is more that can be revealed here than mere fortunes.” Timothy leaned in closer slightly: “I have come seeking answers; hopefully I will unravel some of these mysteries hidden in these swamps.”
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