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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?)) Response: Genos took a moment to think about what he had gone through to get here. Eventually he took a seat on the cushion next to the old hag and began to tell his story. “My story? Well, since you asked so nicely. My story would begin on a farm, in the countryside. I grew up not knowing my mother, as she died giving birth to me. My father put me to work as soon as I could pick up a shovel, and worked me close to death almost everyday. The only part of my day that brought me any joy was seeing my older sister, Lily. She would always turn a sad day into a bright one, and I could never forget the way that she would scoop me up on stormy nights and rock me until I was well enough to go back to sleep. She acted like a mother to me, probably due to her being 9 years older than me. Eventually, at the age of 12, at the end of a long day of work in the fields, I walked back to the house like normal. I opened the front door and went looking around the house for my sister. I walked down the main hallway, into the kitchen. I was expecting to find her there, but there wasn’t anybody there. I was expecting her to be there and was confused when she wasn’t, but didn’t think much of it and went to her room. As I walked up the staircase, I heard a loud bang come from her room. I ran towards it, fear in my soul, and saw my father standing over her, the smell of booze in the air, and a bloody knife in his hands. I screamed, appalled by what I saw, and he turned to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran away from him. He chased, tackling me down the stairs, and tried to pin me to the ground, but I scurried out of his grasp. I ran to the kitchen, desperate for anything to defend myself, and saw a simple knife, laying on the table. I seized the moment and grabbed it to defend myself. My father entered the kitchen and charged at me. I sidestepped and plunged the knife into the middle left part of his back. I heard him gasp, then collapse. Blood poured out of the wound, but I wasn’t about to let him get up. Why would I do that when he took the one relief for grief in my life? I sat his back and plunged the knife into his back. Over. And over. And over again. Even when I was sure he was dead I didn’t stop. I kept going until his back was a patchwork of stab wounds. I slowly got back up and walked up the stairs to where my sister lay. Her glassy eyes stared up into the ceiling, open wide. I hugged her body and cried, letting grief overtake me. Eventually when I was done, I slowly made my way back to my pathetic father. I took the knife and stuck it back into his back. I stood up, kicked his body one more time, and went outside and sat on the porch. I eventually pulled myself together, and gathered all that I could from my home. I kissed my sister goodbye, and started walking. I walked and walked and walked with no clear direction, I just kept moving, stealing food from towns to get by and just kept walking. And now i am here, talking to an old hag because I have nothing better to do. Over my journey I developed an assortment of skills, such as slight of hand, card tricks, pickpocketing skills, and how to use an assortment of tools. I eventually stole enough money to buy me some good clothes, and now I wear them often. Now i am here, talking to an ugly old hag because I have nothing better to do.” The old hag looked slightly annoyed by what had just been said to her, but Genos didn’t seem to care. He simply sat there, head resting on his hands, and smiled at the old hag.