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?)) "You've been expecting me?", I stuttered out after a brief pause.
After realizing she's not going to respond until my story is told, I begin to speak, "My name is Megara. I've been travelling for quite some time now... I got tired of the expectations of my old town, and now that I'm of age I want to settle somewhere else. I'm not looking for any trouble, really. I just want a place to call my own," I'm shocked with my own honesty. I add on as an afterthought, "Maybe a bit of adventure, too. That wouldn't be horrible."
