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?))
"I didn’t come here by accident,” I say, looking at the candles before turning my attention back to her. “I’m chasing answers that most towns won’t give, and you said you were expecting me. So either fate has a cruel sense of humor, or you know something I don’t.”
Recommended Comments