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?))
"Oh?, I, uh.. *thinking back, staring into her book being well lit by the candles* well.. it starts back when I was young and my parents recently sent me off from my family home.. I think I was.. about 14?, but started on for a journey for my family to prove them that I can become a to a nobles squire. Quite foolish and young I was. It started by me going to different towns asking if they needed recruitment after wandering awhile I met a recruiter needing military help and i trained to be a nobles squire. So I gladly obliged, but soonely started to regret that decision, I trained to be a nobles knight for 6-7 years but couldnt continue my training, and got forcefully involved in an mission to slay a witch, but she cursed me and told me "You'll never get the joy of love and hope" as she'd laugh maniacally". I saw my friends I made since I was 15 get killed and slaughtered right infront of me. It was horrifying, but I held fast and managed to flee and started to wander for my last years up until now.
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
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