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?))
"Well, that is certainly something I ponder myself too, who I am? and where do this retched life takes me?" My eyes study her and my surrounding trying to understand what it is that happens, my nose wrinkled in response to the stench of the place. My boots seem to have gotten mud on the sole of them, everything felt to sticky, a bit of a mess. "I am just a little elf girl that is looking for a bit of fun and adventure" The corner of my lip lifted slightly while backing away slowly looking at the crone from the top of my shoulder. "Nothing too glamorous, ain't it?"
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