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?)) "Huh?" she looked at the hag with a bit of shock that quickly changed into a fear mixed with interest. She took few steps, bringing her closer to the cushion. "My story? I don't have a lot to talk about. I'm still reaching out to find one that belongs to me" she smirked, finally sitting down on the pillow. "I'm just a traveller who tries to gain as much knowledge as possible. Looking forward to find my place in this world" she sighed. Once more thirst of gaining new knowledge won with her fear.
