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?)) Parsley paused just past the entrance to take in the sight of the old hag for a moment. Their eyes darted around before they stepped further inside, steps quiet as they came to sit on the cushion. "I'm simply wandering through." They start, a small and crooked smile on their face. "What is there to tell? I'm simply a rogue who enjoys the nomadic life. I've been traveling for years. This town..." They glanced back towards the entrance. "It seemed worth seeing. At least for a moment." It wasn't the entire truth, but it wasn't a lie. They were good at that. No one could call them a liar. "Turns out I was right, if you've truly been expecting me." Their eyes came back to look at the hag, that smile still playing at their lips. "What do you know?"
