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.”
"well," you begin, "I was born in the big city to a rich father and mother." you sigh, "My dad hated me from a young age and always got mad at me when ever I was around. I wanted to be an adventurer but my father told me the life of a gentlemen was much better than a life in the wild. So I dropped the idea of ever seeing the world. My dad ended up cheating on my mom and they got a divorce, I would never see my mom again." *sheds a tear and slouches before continuing "then," *sniffles* "she died of an unknown illness. I was devastated. But my father didn't care and got more violent with me. His beating continued and by the time I was 15 I learned not to scream or cry anymore as it was a waste of energy. At the age of 18 I applied for a college and got my bachelors. Then I wanted to join the army hoping it would fix my troubles but it didn't." *sits up and smiles* "now I live a life as higher class man with a good job and I prefer to live life optimistically."
Example: (delete this)
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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