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.”
I sit down, eyeing her warily. I sigh, starting my story. "I had a rather normal childhood, a few mishaps here and there but nothing too significant, until that fateful day.” I pause, narrowing my eyes. “I-” Guards burst into the tent, dragging me out, all while the hag watches from the shadows. “Let me go!” I yell, struggling to get away. I punch at the guards to no avail.
I try to reach for my sword but a guard quickly knocks the sword to the ground. I struggle more, only to be rewarded with a swift punch to the face. I reach up, trying to claw at the guards faces fruitlessly. The guards punch me again, knocking me out.