ducats

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?)) He gathers his thoughts, trying to put into words the reasons that brought him to this swampy, dim town. "I come from a small village surrounded by a once-thriving river," Arthur begins, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "But alas, the river dried out, leaving us struggling to survive. I began on a journey through unfamiliar territory in search of new land and opportunities to secure a better future for my people," Arthur continues, his eyes reflecting determination. As memories of his childhood flooded his mind, William's voice softened, carrying a hint of wistfulness. "Growing up in that riverside village was a simple yet fulfilling life. The flowing waters provided sustenance, and the close-knit community was like an extended family. I spent my days learning the art of fishing from my father, a wise and weathered fisherman who taught me the ways of the river and instilled in me a deep respect for nature."