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?))
Surprised by her recognition, Vanderm settles onto the bench and confesses, "You... you recognize me? But I'm just the son of a humble potato farmer, tilling the earth and coaxing life from the soil." Her knowing nod encourages Vanderm to continue, "Perhaps you've seen me at the local farmer's market, standing proudly beside our family's prized potato – the largest one of all." As Vanderm sits back, he continues, "Anyways, I've been farming potatoes with my dad for 12 years now, starting to help out at the age of 8. This year, we're expecting our largest crop, and I'm traveling to nearby towns to find more buyers for our harvest. It's been quite a journey, witnessing the fruits of our labor take root and grow. You know, despite the challenges of farming in these swampy lands, I find a strange sort of joy in the grind. There's a rhythm to the seasons, a satisfaction in the physical labor, and a deep connection to the earth that I can't imagine trading for anything else. Now where was I? That's right - you asked what brought me here. It's getting dark out, and I've yet to find a place to rest for the night. These roads are dangerous, and I've brought little with me."
Recommended Comments