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 hesitate at the entrance of the tent, eyes narrowing at the odd floating candles. After a moment, I enter the tent anyway, the squelching of the mud from the swamp floor echoing faintly. When she points to the cushion, I sit down on it without any ceremony, eyeing her warily.
“Expecting me?” I let out a small, rough laugh. “That’s a bold claim to make to someone you’ve never met.” I move closer, elbows on knees as I eye her.
“I didn’t come here for games or tricks. I came here because this place seemed like it might actually have something worth sticking around for.” I wave my hand towards the swamp.
“Most towns look at a goblin and start grabbing torches. This one looks at me and smells the rot, then goes back to mind its own business.”
I tilt my head slightly, eyeing her.
“So if you were expecting me... then you’d better get on with it. I didn’t walk all the way through that swamp to sit around playing games with some old hag.”
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