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?))
Usika looks the old hag up and down for a moment before slowly taking a seat. "My story..?" She pauses and leans back to put some distance between her and the woman. "There isn't much to tell.. my story is practically just starting.. I suppose that question would be better asked in the future.." She smiles a bit and stands up. Sitting for too long made her fidgety. "I'll come back and get that question answered for you.." She says before exiting the tent.
