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, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until… "I come deep from the forest, I want to learn as much secrets of magic I can, I wish to help people with my spells and even the potions I brew, I also wish to one day own my very own potion shop, where I can sell all my creations to people in need. I crave more than anything else is to learn everything I can and help as many people I can, its ambitious and probably hard. but I was always taught to go after that which I believe in, there is no greater task or belief I hold than that wish.
