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?))
This place is a lot more gloomy than I had expected. But I had no hopes anyway when my parents sent me away (in a careless sad tone). I’m not gonna lie though this place is dark. Anyways it took me three days to get here and asking me to tell my story? In the past three days I've just been walking day in day out. I was hoping for at least some good hospitality but with the look of this place I don't think so. I don’t even know why my parents would send me off to this wretched land at all.
