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?))
*I sit down* "What do you mean you've been expecting me?" I say *I receive no response* "Whelp I supposed it cant be helped" I say clasping my hands together. "As you can see I'm not from here. I come from a small town down south. I used to live with my father un-till he passed away a few months back". "We are a family of lumberjacks (implies that my weapon of choice in an axe" I say as I make a swinging motion as if I'm swinging a axe. "My father was a tough and well built man un-till the sickness hit him. He raised me well, turned me into the man I am today." I clear my throat "Anyways, for me coming to this town, I come for work, I don't have any money on me, so I'm stuck with these ragged old clothes'." "It gets cold ya know, every night is a challenge". I stand up, "Anyways I should get going, I got no time to waste" *I walk out the tent*.
Recommended Comments