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?))
Example:
"...Thank you.", I calmly state, oferring the hag a quiet smile as I take my seat. "But I'm afraid my story is not one you may call interesting. All you will find in my childhood is tales of hay and lenghty breezes on summer nights. A farmer's son, so will he a farmer be. And with that, I thought myself to be content". I put one hand to my chest, gripping my family pendant tight, and taking on a pensative gaze. "...But the dawn of life must always come to an end. Every year that passed, my hunger for knowledge grew insatiable. I wanted to see what was to be seen. I still do. I studied what books and scrolls could teach; geopolitics, history, mathematics, the ethereal. But none of them could tell me who I am. And so, I set to find that out for myself." I state, unhanding my pendant and meeting the hag's gaze. "What of you? Would you be so kind as to share your wisdom with this traveller?"
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