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've come seeking the shadows that dance between realms, drawn to the mysteries hidden within the folds of this forsaken town," you murmur in a low, edgy voice. Your companion, a silent figure draped in a hooded cloak, lingers behind you, a living shadow.
My tale is one of secrecy, of the clandestine arts that thrive in the blackened corners of the world. My companion," you nod toward the silent figure, "shares the burden of a past draped in shadows, as do I
Darkness and secrets intertwine in the fabric of this town. What is it you seek, dark one, and what shadows do you hope to uncover within the murky depths of our humble abode?
