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:
A shout from behind. Someone’s caught sight of me. Doors flash by as I sprint down the wide hall. Stone archway ahead—my way out of the barracks. Suddenly blocked as an entire patrol skids into view. Not good.
I turn and dash back the way I came. More soldiers careen towards me. My fingertips itch, but there are too many. I vault through a door, slam it shut, and drop the wooden bar across it. Afterwards I found a secret tunnel leading to a nearby forest. After a day of being lost I find myself into this city.
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
Recommended Comments