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?))
Istuineth steps into the tattered tent, the scent of the swamp clinging to the air. Her silvery lavender hair cascades around her shoulders as she gazes at the old hag. With a graceful nod, she accepts the invitation to sit on the cushion.
"Thank you, wise one," Istuineth says, her emerald-green eyes meeting the hag's penetrating gaze. "I come seeking knowledge and guidance through these murky lands. There are whispers of an ancient elven artifact hidden within these swamps, and I believe you hold the key to unraveling its mysteries."
She pauses, her voice carrying a tone of both respect and curiosity. "I've journeyed far to uncover the secrets that lie within the shadows of this dim town. What can you reveal, oh seer of the swamp?"
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