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?))
"Hello my dearest. Thank for for the seat." I say as I hold my smile true to my face. I mask the angst I feel brewing. I grab ahold of the seat being sure to not damage any of my surroundings. I look up at the hag, "Can you remind me of your name ma'am?" I say with a smile as to not offend her.
