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?))
Ivy gently bows, "I hadn't realized I was expected. Ivy Ashguard, pleased to make your acquaintance." Ivy glances around the tent and takes a seat in the cleanest spot. "I suppose since you've been expecting me, I might as well lay everything out. Maybe you can help? My parents weren't around much, but as the eldest daughter of three girls, I was expected to marry who my parents choose." Ivy pulled a book out of the satchel across her shoulder. "But that's never what I invisioned for myself. As a child I read of true love, daring adventures, and unbreakable friendships. As an adult I encountered a cold man who I couldn't see myself enjoying life with." Ivy wipes away a single tear. "So I did what I must, gathered my strength, and explained to my parents that I would not be marrying someone I didn't love and that I would follow my head and heart. My father yelled, my mother cried and I was casted from the house with nothing but my satchel and the book I had been reading. So I have found myself here, ready for my own adventure."
