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?))
Aelan walks over to the cushion and sit down with his legs crossed. "Well... to be honest" He goes quiet, looking at hit hands. "I don't know my story. I just remember wandering for basically my whole life, I don't know why but it feels like it has a purpose, you know?" Aelan glances at the crone, confused. "What do you mean you've been expecting me? I haven't met you before, have I?" With a slightly worried yet quizzical look he begins to examine to crone. "Who are you?" He asks before getting up off the cushion and dusts off his pants. "I'm sorry but I have to go do... something at the..." Pointing over his shoulder before hastily leaving.
