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?)) Example:
Id wander in, the fabric of my dress swaying slowly with my steps... Id sit comfortably in front of the hag studying her before speaking. "I am a wanderer, I travel and learn new things, new religions and new information. Learning the history's of towns before moving on to the next. I watch them crumble and I watch them grow. My life is a map of places and information, civilizations ruined, destroyed and rising from the ashes, as well as the beauty of creation, rising nations. War and peace it is all the same to me. My story lies in the land."
