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?))
She felt her fists clench as the mysterious figure studied her, quite caught off guard by her gaze. "W-Well, I suppose I could.." The air grew heavy as she paused, anxious. "I grew up in a small unknown town, not many creatures or other people. I could see that there was a greater world out there.. but my mother would not let me see it. It wasn't until my 17th birthday that I finally left town, sick and tired of being stuck there. I ran. I've been alone ever since. I survive on stealing food and hunting down meals. I just hope one day I'll actually be able to see the world in a way of importance."
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