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 begin to sit where she gestures, feeling a bit tense. "Well, if you must know my story." I pause looking up at the old hag noticing she is intensely staring at me. I start to get very uncomfortable. "I wandered into this old dim town, nowhere to go. I'm looking for the lost king my father." I say remaining uncomfortable and silent.
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