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?))
Valeriy was taken aback by the terrible smell, almost gagging. The sudden appearance of the hag wanting to know about her was confusing, especially since she seemed to recognize her. Despite feeling fearful, she didn't have anywhere else to go, so she reluctantly agreed to sit and tell her story to avoid trouble. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she felt goosebumps creeping up her arms.
"Um, well, it all started with my family and how I..."
She choked up, finding it a sensitive topic.
"One day, I was with my family, going to the market square to get some goods. Before leaving, I saw someone in need and offered them food I had bought. That turned out to be a big mistake. A few days later, I noticed strange movements outside our home at night. I thought it was just an animal, but it turned out the person I helped was part of a group of thugs and bandits. They followed me home and attacked, killing my parents. I was frozen with fear and couldn't do anything as I watched them die. I was told to run, so I did. Soon after, I saw smoke rising from where my home used to be."
Tears streamed down her face as she spoke, overwhelmed with guilt.
"I've carried the burden of believing I caused my family's death..."
Her voice trailed off, sadness evident, but she remained polite to the old lady.
