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?))
Sorralis carefully sits down on the cushion, cautious of the old hag yet somehow sure she is not a threat, and feels her story almost pour out of her as soon as she sits down; "I'm the daughter of a reasonably wealthy Adunian merchant family. I lived my life half in our estate, half on the road. Our travels were very entertaining, and I experienced many things!" She pauses, growing quiet. "My father was forcing me into a betrothal I wanted no part of, to a much older man than I.. He wouldn't hear reason. So I have run away, and I'm determined to make a new life for myself and live it the way I want to." Sorralis stands up, brushing off her dress, and bows her head towards the old woman before her. "Thank you for listening to my story."
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