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?))
Well old lady, I just left my parents farm two days ago, so there isn't much to tell.
Things were hectic the last few years, and the already strained farm could not support both my parents and me, so I took my leave, hoping to find my way in to the world. Say, I havent eaten since I left home, mind if I have that cheese from teh refuse on teh back of your tent. Nevermind the mold, it will add flavor.
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