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?))
As I step into the tent I cant help but notice the smell of rotting wood and wet moss. ''Good meeting you'' I say as I drop down on the dampened cushion. ''To be honest.. I have no clue... I'm lost, just traveling.'' I say nervously. ''I was raised very strictly and got sick of it.'' I said followed by a sigh. ''My parents never let me wander off far due to fear of monsters or people.'' I peer away momentarily as I'm wandering off deep in thought, I snap back and peer back at the hag's eyes again before awaiting her reply.
