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?))
He pauses and stares at the old lady, weary of strangers after countless weeks travelling the highland trails, but proceeds to cautiously settle on the edge of the seat. "I've lost track of time in the wilderness... Mankind, we think we are so powerful with our weapons and armies... but it is Mother Nature that is the great decider of our fates," he utters in a shallow tone. The flickering candlelight whispers around the canvas tent, rippling in the evening breeze, as if in agreement. "I was forced to leave my old lands and am now in search of new haven where I can build an ecosystem and harness the powers of our environment - will you help me?" The lady gazes intently at him; time slowed until it seemed an age had passed. "Okay," she nodded in agreement, "I didn't have anything on today anyway!"
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