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?))
Example:
I hesitate in the doorway, the damp air clinging to my cloak as if trying to drag me back outside. The hag’s words echo strangely in the candlelit tent, and for a heartbeat I wonder how she could possibly know me. Slowly, I lower myself onto the cushion, my hand never straying far from the hilt of the dagger at my belt.
“You’ve… been expecting me?” I ask, voice steady despite the unease curling in my chest. My green eyes search her wrinkled face, looking for some trick, some hidden jest. “Then you know I’ve come a long way, through mud and shadow, chasing whispers of a place that does not appear on maps. If you truly know who I am, then perhaps you also know why I am here.”
I lean forward, the candlelight catching the faint scar across my brow.
“So, old mother—tell me. What story have you read in my face?”
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