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?))
Steven stepped cautiously into the candlelit tent. He met the hag's gaze and gradually lowered himself onto the cushion. The hag's eyes seemed to pierce through the sorrow that clung to him.
"I am Steven," he began with a hoarse voice. "Once a trusted retainer in the service of House Thorne. I was a man of rising favor, though never of noble birth."
He paused, then began again. "I am now a fugitive. My closest friend, Sir Cedric, was found dead - and the blade that ended his life bore the crest of House Thorne. They claimed I had motive, that I sought to climb higher than my station allowed. They said ambition had driven me to murder."
His eyes lowered, the weight of memory pressing down. "I had to leave behind everything I knew. For months, I rode through treacherous terrain and foreign lands. The path led me here.. and perhaps I will stay for some time."
The hag nods slowly, her gaze never wavering. "Your story is not yet finished, Steven."
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