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?)) I sit down and begin to talk to the old hag "me and my mom lived in a small house in the high elf kingdom for awhile. She raised me most of my life and my dad died when I was 6. I had a.. interesting childhood. my world started to revolve around this boy when I was 17 until he turned out to be a very bad guy so I cut all ties off. I had a big sister and we were really close until she decided to move away. When I turned 18 I decided to go off on my own and figure myself out and here I am.
