Eekos058

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?)) “and who might you be” i asked. She responds with “that doesnt matter now tell me more about your story”. “Im Tim wilders a former warrior at sea from the kingdom of holland after i was left to die after by my own people after an intense battle with our enemy” “i say reluctantly”. she responds “ooh yes Tim wilders i have heard great stories about that name. Now tell me what brings you to this awfull place?” “great stories like what?” i asked with confusion on my face “anyways i have come here for a place to rest im travelling to the land of the craft” “ohh yes many stories regarding that name but most off all the one about the great warrior in command of a fleet with more then a thousand men roaming the seas to there enemies most beloved king and to finally end and win this war.” After taking a sip of her nasty smelling drink she goes on “but when they thought they were almost there they got ambushed by a great army and after intense battle that lasted hours you had no other choice other then to flee with your last few remaining ships but then…” she said with all her might “you found land thinking you were safe you docked there but out of nowhere they were there they hunted down every last one of your men and at last they hunted down their famous commander…. You when they were about to finish you off with you on the ground all bloody, broken and bruised. you saw your right hand men shaking hands with their fleet commander. You knew what this meant but even with all the anger in you you were to weak to do anything. They gave you the last blow of there sword finishing you off. but after a few days you stood up from the dead in search of revenge.” She said with glory on her face. ”stood up from the dead?” I said with a smile on my face “i am no god. No what really happend is that i barely survived the blow they thought had killed me and with all the strength i had left i crawled and crawled until a women saw me on the ground with all my injuries. So she cared for me until i was in good shape again. I thanked her for what she had done and told her i would pay her back once i could “no you wont. It is not needed.” She said. well if you say so. I responded to her. I thanked her again and left. After a day or 2 i was really wondering what i was going to do with my life now. My heart said take revenge. But another part of me said run away and live your life. And well thats what what im on my way to do now. To live my life and to pay back the kind women that helped me even tho she said it wasn’t needed” i responded with a straight and serious face. The old women responds with. “ oh is that so. well thats good for you boy. You said you were looking for a place to rest here? I got extra room in that room over there” as she points to an old rotting door. me questioning if this is a good place to stay say “well thanks i would gladly stay here” after thinking this would probably be the cleanest house in this nasty swamp. “Well good night” the old women says as i enter my room. in the morning she asks me “do you want to stay for breakfast?”. But as im looking at the table of disgusting food i lose all my appetite. “No thanks i say i really have to get going now” i say trying to hold back the face of disgust . ”well alright then save travels and good luck. May we meet again” she says smiling with her rotten theeth. ”thank you very much. God bless you” i respond as i walk through the front door. “And there i go on my way to the land of the craft im almost there”. I say to myself. to be continued……

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?)) The weight of the swamp’s dank air presses in on me as I step deeper into the tent, the faint flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the worn fabric around us. My boots squelch against the damp ground, but I offer no mind to the discomfort. I lower myself slowly onto the cushion she gestures to, feeling the slight rustle of the fabric beneath me as I sit. The hag’s gaze is sharp, as though she can pierce through to my very soul. Her words hang in the air, and a strange chill runs down my spine. How could she know I was coming? “I… I didn’t expect to find someone who knew of me in a place like this,” I say, my voice low but steady. I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I’ve traveled long and far. There is a curse that follows me, to be continued….