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?))
*I take a seat* *sigh* As Gildor recounts his tale, his eyes reflect a mix of weariness and determination. "I have been traveling from town to town selling my wares for 3 years now." Gildor states. Gildor pauses and says "It was somewhat the family business." Gildor continues, "my parents started this business many years ago" "though recently they have grown old, and i have had to take it up." "though as I was on my way here, I was robbed by a gang of bandits!" He shouts "all my possessions were taken and I have been left with nothing but the clothes on my back. Gildor's eyes light up with a spark of determination as he continues, despite this I vow to rebuild my riches and start a new."
With a determined nod, Gildor gathers himself, ready to face the challenges that lie ahead.
Recommended Comments