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?))
Sits down on the cushion, getting comfortable, he begins to speak. “Well, first off, my name is Zen woodsbark, I come from a small town far from here, I am searching for a new home, and a please to work.” He spoke with a soft, comforting tone, His eyes shown as he told the woman his story. “I come from a land called Eden, it is very far but it’s a luscious place!” He said enthusiastically, but his face quickly turned stern and stiff “I lost my parents there when I was young, our house had caught on fire and I was the only survivor” he said, his tone turning from a soft and comforting one to a stiff and saddened one.
Recommended Comments