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?))
Joseph hesitated before lowering himself onto the cushion. His cloak was damp from the misty air outside, the fabric worn and frayed at the edges. He rested his hands on his knees, exhaling slowly.
"I used to have a home," he began, his voice quiet but steady. "A place where I belonged… or at least, I thought I did." He glanced down, fingers tightening slightly. "Things changed. People I trusted turned their backs on me. The life I knew slipped away, and before I realized it, there was nothing left for me there."
He paused, staring into the flickering candlelight. "At first, I tried to hold on, to fix what was broken. But some things can’t be fixed." His jaw tightened. "So, I left. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to."
He looked up at the hag, his expression unreadable. "Now, I walk from town to town, searching for something… something worth staying for. Maybe I’ll find it here. Maybe I won’t." He exhaled, shaking his head. "Either way, I can’t go back."
