RuledByThree

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?))

Slowly, she steps forward, the soft rustle of her cloak blending with the dim atmosphere. With quiet grace, she lowers herself onto the cushion, folding her legs in front of her.

"I did not expect to be known here," she begins, her voice soft but clear, laced with a trace of both caution and curiosity. "I am here on the wind’s call, drawn by whispers of a land forgotten by time. The forest guided me, though I do not know why. What do you know of me, old one?" Her emerald eyes meet the hag’s, full of quiet defiance, though she remains composed, waiting for the woman's response.