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?))
Iris wrings her hands as the woman addresses her.
"Me? Well... I'm nobody special, really. My name is Iris, I'm from the countryside, and I usually just tend the farm. Although, I've always dreamed of being an alchemist! There's something so enchanting about science, you know? What nobler pursuit is there than that of unraveling the secrets of the unknown, and serving the ultimate good... Knowledge itself?"
Oh dear. She's rambling again. Her cheeks flush, and she chuckles.
"Oh, but you don't want to hear about all that, do you?"
