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?)) Example:
I take long deep breath, curiosity floods my body "she's been expecting me?" I say to my self, I slowly make my way to the gestured cushion and lower my self on it, as the air beings to thicken the smell of rotted wood floods my nose, I slowly begin to speak "I'm a knight that retired into a farmer nothing else", The old hag eyes pierce though my soul like she's peeling the layers of my past, As she glares at me I get the feeling she wants to hear more, the candles flicker before I speak again, "I was once a knight with a purpose, but as the battles grew wearisome the weight of my own sword was to much to carry. Seeking another chance, I retreated from that path to begin a new one, I traded my sword for shovel, I pursued the life of simple farmer." The old hag nods, the expression of her gleamed of wisdom as if she's seen the echoes of many stories, the lights flicker once more before she speaks "The candles dance to your rhythm, your story still has yet to unfold, you must pick up the sword and fight for your purpose" before I can speak the lights flicker, she's gone like she was never there.
