hatter

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.” Theros reluctantly welcomed himself into the tent, his face contorting to express his initial apprehension to the smell. He quickly darted his eyes around the interior - First analyzing the candles, the cushion beside him, and finally the hag. "What for?" he replied curtly. "It's hardly anything interesting." Theros sat down on the cushion. For a while, he was quiet, and merely stared at the old hag in thought. With a swift hand, he tossed the end of his cloak behind him. "My parents were distant. I didn't care to mingle with those around me in my earlier years." Theros subtly rolled his eyes, continuing. "I prioritized my studies and my research above all else. At some point, I even had the dream of becoming a teacher. I expected my efforts to take me somewhere," he trailed off. "Yet here I am, wandering around and talking to..." Theros sighed. He stood up from the cushion, dusting off the back of his pants as he kept a steady gaze on the old hag. She was quiet and still, waiting expectantly for Theros to continue. "Is my expected arrival meant to lead me somewhere important, or is this for your entertainment?"