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: (delete this)
"Alright" the fisherman says with a voice that sounds as harsh as the most daring sea-weather. *Cough*. He begins talking in his southern accent. "I am Fred, Fisherman Fred". "My life started on the coasts of Durendale, west-palm Durendale, first in line of the Ramshack farm over in Durandale. I grew up in this homestead. My daddy, Blank Foot Dan Ramshack ran the farm as did my Granpa Rollin Tim Ramshack. Then the war..." *cough, cough*. "I've been a fisherman all my life, and since leaving the fisherman's union in '63, I've been an independent. Where the fish moves, I move, and such. I'm just tryn' to live m'am."
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_07/2023_02_04_fisherman--original-by-peelover-21304934.png.9a542e21c72e5372969d88d5cddf210c.png)
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