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 would take a seat on the cushion, looking at the old hag with a mix of curiosity and caution. After a moment, I'd respond in a polite tone: "Thank you for the invitation. My journey led me to this town, drawn by an inexplicable pull. I must admit, I'm intrigued that you were expecting me. My story is one of wanderings and curiosity, searching for answers and seeking knowledge. I've encountered various lands and people, each with their own mysteries and tales." I would pause briefly, considering how much information to reveal, given the enigmatic circumstances. But sensing a certain aura of trust in the air, I continue: "In recent times, I've felt an unexplained connection to places steeped in history and mystique. Perhaps that's why I find myself here, drawn by the secrets this swampy town holds. I'm open to discovering its stories and perhaps even learning more about myself in the process." I'd then look at the old hag, waiting to see how she reacts to my words, curious about what she knows and what she might offer.
