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?))
"I am Zivivla, I come from Haense" she says assertively "I seek knowledge, I seek glory, I seek power!" she says firmly "As a child, I would venture deep into the woods in search of fairies from the tales my grandmother would read me." as she speaks she does hand gestures as if she was re-living those very moments "Now, why don't you tell me about yourself?" she takes a book and quill and takes notes as the conversation goes on
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