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'd rather not, if that's ok with you ma'am." Haden whisper softly, folding into himself trying to look smaller than he already is. keeping his eyes down cast, his ears then pick up the sound of footsteps heading at their direction. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation.
