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 look at the old woman sternly. Though confusion lingers in the back of my mind- "Who are you? How do you know my name?" Spoken with a bit of hesitance. "I'm busy, so don't waste my time." My stance is guarded and I refuse to sit down, but decide to hear the old hag out. "Well? Speak..."
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