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?))
*Blinks rapidly and seems very confused and sits on the cushion, displaying his trust in the old woman, but after a close second gathers the courage to respond: *
"Woah, I-It seems like you know me, maybe this meeting way align by the stars, but still... *stops to take a breath and continues with lower tone* I'm unsure about your intentions, so I politely ask you to speak first." - *he starts shy but after each word grows full of confidence to flip sides in the following conversation, especially if there is something important, he should know*
*Boy leans back and rubs paint on his left hand, it looks like a symbol that was drawn using blood, although details are almost invisible in the dim candlelight*
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