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.”
Artem reclines comfortably on the plush cushion, a picture of nonchalance in response to the profound inquiry that hangs in the air.
"If you were anticipating my arrival, it's likely you're acquainted with my history of dedicated service to my old governor, my insatiable thirst for adventure, and perhaps even caught a fleeting glimpse into the recesses of my personal life," he remarks, his voice carrying a tone of casual confidence
The purpose that brought him to this nondescript town unfolds in his words: "My quest led me to the Kovachev family. The journey here was strangely uneventful, so devoid of notable incidents that the details have slipped through the sieve of my memory. Nevertheless, destiny has tethered me to this place, and here I am, with intentions of making it my new home. That, my friend, is all you need to know." His countenance shifts, shedding the veneer of ease for a more solemn visage, as his gaze turns contemplative, fixing on the enigmatic figure of the hag before him.
