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?))
Example:
As they stepped into the tent, brushing away the damp, dead strands of hair that clung to their face, they glanced around the dimly lit space, double-checking that they were in the right place. The journey had left them
agitated, and the unfamiliar surroundings only added to their unease. Flickering candlelight dancing shadows across the walls, and the smell of damp wood and earth filled their lungs. Lowering their hood, they carefully sank onto the cushion, their eyes meeting the hag’s.
"Expecting me?" they repeated, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "That's just a tad unsettling. But… I guess it makes sense. The world does have a funny way of guiding me to places I don't understand."
They paused for a moment, unsure how to begin speaking to the strange being sitting before them.
"My story? Well… it’s not exactly simple, but I’ll try to keep it short. I’ve been wandering, ever since I left my hometown, training and honing my skills with the goal of becoming the knight my late brother never could be, trying to avenge his legacy after his tragic death. But there’s something that’s been following me, something I can’t shake. A curse, maybe? Or some kind of power—I’m not sure. I’ve been chasing bits and pieces of the truth, hoping something will make it all make sense. And then… I ended up here. In this town. Now it seems like you’re the next part of the puzzle. Hopefully, you can help me become the person I need to be, so my skills don't go to waste."
They leaned forward, the weight of the journey heavy on themselves, the loss of their brother still aching. They stared at the hag’s face, trying to notice any hints of her thoughts or intentions.
"So, what is it you know about me? And why did you know I’d come?"
To be continued...