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?))
I step forward gracefully, my long, white hair glinting in the candlelight as I settle onto the cushion. “I must admit, your foresight is impressive for a place such as this,” I reply, my voice smooth yet curious. “I come seeking knowledge—rumors of an ancient artifact hidden within these swamps. It is said to hold great power, and I fear it may fall into the wrong hands. What do you know of these waters, old one?” I lean in slightly, as my sky blue eyes focused intently on her, eager to uncover whatever secrets she might hold. Until..
