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?)) declining the offer to sit down, "I have started to explore the world, to try and learn about ancient magic. Surely there is someone to teach me" I replied in a confident tone. "I was born in the Principality of Celia'nor. Growing up I would always go and watch the other more wise elves do extreme feats with the control of magic. The sciences have always intrigued me." I started to wonder why the town is so empty. "Where are the other towns people?" I ask being curious. there was a dishearten feeling as I walked in through the swamp. How long has this old lady been here and if everyone's left how long has she been alone.
