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?)) "Why should I tell you, old hag?" I raise my eyebrow while staring at the strange woman "Don't you have your own business to mind?"
"I will tell you anyways," Ghomdri sighs "I came from a dark, tormented forest where I was abandoned by my very own flesh and blood, I lived to see the end but I decided that I had to pick myself up and become someone in this wretched world." Ghomdri pauses for a moment and then continues "I'm here today because I want to put a mark in this society, and that is the best that I could summarise my story."
