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?))
Erina sits, suspicious of the strange old hag. "I'm not quite sure I can trust you. Who are you really?" She asks, apprehensive. The crone laughs and pats Erina on the knee. "Come child, it doesn't matter who I am. But to me, it matters who you are. Speak." There is something in her eyes that Erina cannot help but trust. She accepts her response, and recites far-from-humble beginnings.
"When I was young, many heroes came through my town. They regaled us with tales of suffering, and a future of vengeance. I admired them, and wished to be like them in every way." She pauses, letting out a sad chuckle. "But I came from a very good family. My parents loved me and cared for me, my friends admired me, the town knew me well. I didn't seem to have the tragic past that the rest had. So, I decided to make one. I employed my best friend to help me antagonize someone into creating my backstory. So we went to the river, prepared to send me into greatness." She takes a breath, eyes beginning to water. She is afraid to vocalize what was next in the story. "Then, we came across a group of drunks. We planned to just have them hurl some insults, so we could kick 'em down and call it a backstory. But it wasn't that easy, and we payed the price. I sauntered up to them, asking them who gave them the right to be so indecent in the middle of the day. I could help but beam, for my past was about to fall into place. But instead of picking a fight with me, they noticed my friend in the background. She was always pretty, prettier than me. And they wanted to take advantage of her. So they stumbled past me and up to her, grabbing her face and binding her arms. I yelled and screeched, begging them to let her go. They wouldn't listen. So I came up and kicked the man binding her arms in the knee. It was quite harmless physically, but he did not like the fact that I had tried to fight back. So he took my friend, and he threw her in the river. She never learned how to swim. So I watched her kick and grab at the water, and slowly sink under. I could not return to my home, not after what I had just caused. So I just...left. And now I'm here." She stares at her lap, fat tears falling.
