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.”
she sat down apprehensively, "i was wondering around, i'm on a personal voyage. my family was killed by an angry tribe back when i was sixteen." she gently rubbed the wood on her bow, "i was on this voyage with a group of people, my closest companions, one of which was a lover, but she gather everyone up and she left me all by myself without a goodbye. so i'm on my own now but, luckily i can handle myself"
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