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.”

((How do you respond?))

Raina steps inside, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, eyes narrowing at the flickering candlelight. She doesn’t immediately sit, instead casting a suspicious glance at the hag’s floating candles before finally sinking into the cushion with a sigh. "If you’re expecting some grand tale of adventure or a confession about why I’ve graced this fine… swamp," she gestures vaguely toward the damp canvas walls, "you’ll be disappointed. I’m here for supplies. Flour. Yeast. And maybe a moment’s peace away from the sound of the oven door slamming every fifteen minutes."

She leans back, arms crossing, though her gaze flickers with the faintest curiosity."Expecting me? Now… what is it you think you know about me?"