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.”
Sirsano sits, although rather confused. "Well, if you insist, My name is Sirsano, Sirsano Zilfani. I'm a writer, not a very well known one though - but I plan on making that change sooner than later. Have you read any of my books? Actually, don't answer that, you most likely haven't, nor has anyone i've met. Other than that, I'm a pretty ordinary person. Before i head off, I just wanted to say, you should read one of my books, if not so serious books in serious situations is your thing."
