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?))
"Well... I guess I've just been wandering around. My old town got burnt to the ground my some enemies, but y'know, all's fair in love and war." Cal responded while standing, a smile on his face as if he didn't go through something traumatic. "Anyways, my story...I don't know, it's a rather long and boring one. I'd rather listen to your answers about my questions." Cal, even though he was more of an ambivert than anything, was still...wary of strangers. "How did you know I was coming here though? Do you know who I am? Where is this exactly? What woods are these?"
