Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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 didn’t come here by choice,” he says, voice low, eyes scanning the flickering shapes on the tent walls. “The road vanished behind me hours ago. The trees moved when I wasn’t looking. And the crows—” he pauses “—they weren’t just watching. They were guiding me.” He hesitates before sitting on the cushion the hag gestured to. Looking around the room, he sighs deeply. "If you must know my story, I grew up poor. I say grew up, but truthfully-" he shifts in his cushion as he takes his bag off his back "-I still am poor. I was exiled for theft from my village." His eyes dart to the hag, to see her expression. After a few moments, he starts again. "After that, I began walking on a trail. After a while, the trail turned to a road, the road disappeared, and now here I am." He leans forward, elbows on knees now. "Now, time for you to tell a story-" he looks intrigued at the hag "-you said you were expecting me... why?"
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