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?))
"Who are you??" He eyes her warily. "How do you know who I am?" He sits down on the plump cushion. "I am from the kingdom of Prat." He says. "In my childhood things were hard. I always was being treated horrible by everybody, my friends, my mother, everyone." He says. "I am on a mission to prove my worth to everyone. Show that I am not someone to be treated with disgust but with respect and honor." He says with a glint in his eye.
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