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?))
"Me?" She smirks, lounging on the offered cushion."Merely passing through. Thought I'd see what wares were beholden within this run down dump." She thinks after the hag speaks her seccond question "Where to begin...
Memories of a hundred lands flash through her mind
"I've been a Guard... A concubine.. A mercenary... and now a Dancer. Just trying to make a living, I'm sure you understand.."
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