Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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.”
I remove my sword and dagger, keeping them in their scabbard, and gently put them on the floor. I sit down, legs crossed in front of me and look at her, studying how time has aged her so much, and deciding if she is now ready ... I hold my right hand, palm facing up, between us; a few seconds pass, then minutes, then hours. At last, the air over my hand trembles, a dim blue light sparks and an amulet appears - hovering over my palm. "You may get back what is yours now, what has always been yours", I say. She looks at me, then at the amulet and a smile appears on her face - She hasn't smiled for so long, her face seemed to be hurting from it. Her lips move, "I knew you would come" she says.
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