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?))
''Oh, hello there.'' As she looks around the tent and sits down on the cushion. ''You've been expecting me?'' With a cold look she continues. ''I'm here for many reasons that are best left untold. My story is not intended for all ears. But maybe I can make some exceptions for a wise old woman like you. Is there anything specific you would like to hear?'' As she waited for a response she senses a tense atmosphere...
