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?))
Example:
i came from a village far from here, a poor village, in a land full of anger and hatred. Full of war. The village got attacked by vicious scavenging goblins. I and a few others fought off the beasts as thoroughly as we could but they were too much. They overran the whole entirety of the scorched streets, killing anyone what got in their way. we ran as far as we could but a a dark and ominous storm of arrows rained down on us. the poor ridged families. they were murdered. as well as my family and friends. i lost everything. Yet somehow, i survived. Wounded and exhausted, near deaths gate. i crawled to the nearest horse, barely holding onto life i rode on until the flaming, orange skies were gone. Then suddenly it all went dark, not a thing to remember to only wake up. Here, i have no idea of the whereabouts i am. or how i managed to scrape past the war torn state of home. What am i doing here. who are you?
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