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?))
Rainy approaches the cushion, but does not sit. His eyes narrow in response to the crone's question, and a cold voice emanates from within the steel covering of his mask. "I am a vagrant from a distant land. My shame forbids me from sharing my story, so you will be content with what little I have to share. Know that I have made the journey here to test myself, as I am yet weak. Know however, that my ambitions will carry me to redemption. "
Without another word, Rainy turns from the crone and makes a swift exit from the tent. Clenching his fist, he turns his gaze to the dark skies above and begins to monologue. "Little does that crone know, my dark and brooding past is unknown even to myself! I am cursed with amnesia, and my pain is great. Every day is a struggle as I try and fail to belong in a cruel world which has forsaken me! And why?! All I wanted was to be happy, but there is no joy to be found in the hollow husk of my soul. For now, I will continue to search this desolate world-- for the power to reveal the terrible secrets of my past-- or die trying."
A sudden burst of anger overtakes Rainy, carrying him to his next destination along the road of broken dreams.
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