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?)) Example: (delete this)
"The Ice told me to come here... or rather... will tell me? or has it already told me? I both can and cant remember." Borguli sits across from the hag. "its all lost now or perhaps its still there I see snippets every now and then." He looks at the hag twitching somewhat as he attempts to recount. "I dont know where i am or what this place is all i knownis that i would arrive...here? Next?" He struggles to come up with the words. "Even with all that ive or will write down o- DAMNIT." He cups his head in his hands. "I'm pretty sure i consumed water from enchanted ice it was suppose to be a boon but i was trapped and consumed too much! NOW MY MIND FEELS LIKE ITS STUCK IN A NEVER ENDING CYCLE OF REMEMBERING AND FORGETTING I CANT EVEN REMEMBER MY PARENTS! IM STUCK WANDERING AN ENDLESS LIBRARY AND I CAN FEEL IT MY MIND SLIPPING! NO MORTAL WAS MENT TO KNOW IT ALL AND NOTHING AT THE SAME TIME I CANT EVEN REMEMBER HOW TO WRITE RIGHT NOW. I CANT PROCESS IT ALL!" He falls to the side slightly sobbing before unrolling his right sleave revealing a somewhat prosthetic. Its shabby and dull with dried grime and grease. He runs his left hand over a set of carvings a mixture of letters and numbers they seem to bring him calm and he regains a small sliver of his sanity. He sits back up and sighs after a time. "My name is Borguli Hubbard and i need help forgetting and remembering."
