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: Malherbe Ulrich entered the tent and met the hag's gaze. "I'm here for guidance," he stated tersely, his true motives veiled behind a practiced mask of ambiguity. His parents had been a cold, distant pair, more concerned with their social status than their son's well-being. From a young age, Malherbe learned to hide his vulnerabilities, to present a façade of indifference even in moments of turmoil. The hag, sensing the weight of unspoken burdens in his eyes, studied him intently. From a young age, Malherbe understood that revealing any sign of weakness would only invite further scorn and disappointment from his parents. He mastered the art of hiding his pain, presenting a facade of stoicism even in moments of turmoil. Yet beneath this veneer lay a deep yearning for understanding and a longing to break free from the suffocating expectations that defined his existence. The hag, perceptive as ever, sensed the echoes of unspoken anguish in his eyes. Her tent, adorned with mystical trinkets and illuminated by flickering candlelight, offered a refuge from the oppressive environment Malherbe called home.
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