TheHunter38

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?)) "How do you know me," I respond with a nervous and suspicious voice. My hands slowly reach to my knife hidden in my waist. My breath slows down as the shaking of my hand dissipates. "My name is Agathon, I came from a small village a week's ride from here and I am a hunter turned bounty hunter. I am on the look for bandits that have attacked my best fried. Do you know where they are?" I finally respond with an assertive voice with the brow on my face becoming more tense. "If you don't have the information, I will take my leave," I explain further as I slowly turn around and start to walk out of the tent with small jagged steps with every step I take.