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?))
The night howls behind them as they enter the tent, the hag beckoning and asking what brings them here but before a word could be given they seem to recognize this face. They sit on the tattered worn stool before the hag before speaking. "You see, I have come seeking something more, my life before this consisted of meaningless labor. Throw straw here, load coal there, I want to see the world and all that it gives. I wanna make something more of myself than I already am. I can feel it in me, the calling to adventure. My family is fine tending to their things themselves. It is time I move on and find my own destiny."
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