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?))
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
"You've been expecting ME?" Her eyes shift, trying to gather anymore information about this woman. How does she know me? Slowly, Keira lets her guard down and sits, as instructed.
"Well..." She looks to the hag. "My story." She lets out a sigh. "I'm afraid its not all that interesting. I'm just a traveler miss, left home when my parents died. Had no reason to stay and well- there are so many places I'd like to see before the end." That was all she dared to tell, she'd always been wary of strangers. She hoped that would suffice.
Recommended Comments