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?))
Gabriel answers, clicking his tongue “I’ve come in the search of like-minded people.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, “People who, like myself, have been wronged by their peers.” Gabriel gestures to his crippled leg. “To take those who would be perceived as sheep and turn them into wolves in sheep’s clothing. I’ve come to form an organization who prey upon the rich and well off.” Gabriel slowly shuffles around the room, looking for anything that may be of value. He turns his back on the hang, gawking at the floating candles. “Would you happen to know anyone interested in such a calling?” Gabriel asks as he attempts, out of pure nature of being a kleptomaniac, to rip one of the floating candles from its orbit and pocket it.
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