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?))
"It smells like home, but why would I tell you my story when I could eat you, you look very weak and defenceless right now, what would stop me? I won't though. I am just making my way back to my village. Although now that I think about it, you do look rather delicious, and I could get a pretty penny for your bones.."
