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?))
Example: I shift my gaze around the tent, noticing various mysterious artifacts and trinkets scattered about. The atmosphere is thick with magic, and I can't help but wonder what secrets this place holds.
The old hag cackles softly, her withered fingers tracing the edges of a crystal ball that sits on a nearby table. The ball shimmers with an otherworldly light as she continues to study me with her keen, knowing eyes.
"I am Morwen," she rasps, her voice carrying the weight of years of wisdom and power. "A seer and a keeper of ancient secrets in this forsaken place. The swamp has whispered your name, traveler. It knows of your quest, your destiny."
I lean in closer, captivated by her words. "My quest? What do you mean?"
Morwen's crooked smile widens as she leans forward, her gaze never leaving mine. "The balance of our world is at stake, and you, my dear, are a key player in this age-old battle. The swamp chose you to be its champion, and I am here to guide you on your path. But first, I must hear your story, the tale of how you came to be here."
I take a deep breath, realizing that my journey has brought me to this mystical place for a reason. With a sense of purpose, I begin to recount the adventures and trials that have led me to this dim, swampy town, all the while keeping a wary eye on Morwen, wondering what role she truly plays in this unfolding tale
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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