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.”
The man peers into the tattered tent, the opening flaps wavering as the wind outside the swampy town hisses with suspicion. His eyes scan around his surroundings, scrutinizing the items littering the floors and tables. Finally, his gaze creeps towards the woman in the centre, his curiosity piquing at the array of candles suspended in the air. "Perhaps over a cup of tea?" he responds to her inquiry, offering a smile as he slings his bag over his shoulders and onto the floor as he took a seat.
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