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 hesitate for a moment, confused as to who this strange woman is - I'm almost certain I've never met her before. I try to read her face, keeping my expression neutral, although I can tell that somehow she knows how i'm feeling, like she can read my mind. "Surely, you know already?" I say, and she looks shocked. "I was travelling. I'd just been seperated from my sister when I recieved your message," I pause, looking at her again, my eyes squinting as I look into hers, tracing my gaze over each individual wrinkle. "Who are you?"
