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?))
Lockson peaked a curious eye, then thought more about the hag and whipped his eyes all around himself, asking cautiously as he did so, "What would I be getting out of it?" He paused for a moment, looking back at the hag, then blinked twice and laughed. He stormed down to the cushion with bravado claiming boldly, "Well I've nothing to worry, what could a crone like you harm a man of my exquisite qualities!" The chuckle at the end of Lockson's statement had a tinge of worry, but no no, he was yet young and, of course, destined for greater things! Surely he had made no error in this feeble encounter, surely...?
