Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
Obeying the elderly woman's request, Hazel gently lowered herself onto the cushion-- which was stained with strange colors and hard as a rock. The tent being much warmer than outside, Hazel removed her cloak, the dirt on her skin being illuminated by the floating candles. "You're my great aunt, is that right? I didn't know my mother told you I was coming." Hazel paused, inhaling the strong scent of incense. "You certainly smell like family."
