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Thisguyssweet

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  1. Thisguyssweet

    thisguyssweet

    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 monk bows his head respectfully as he takes a step forward, the floor damp and earthy. Folding his legs with practiced ease into the lotus position, he settles onto the cushion without a sound. "As a fallen leaf drifts with the wind," he begins cautiously, "so too have I followed the pull of nature, trusting in the current that brought me here." He studies the hag for a moment, looking for any sign, any reaction. None appear. As Monk Xue's gaze shifts across the tent, the thickness of the air becomes palpable; thick with stagnation and dilapidation. Amongst this rot, a deeper darkness resides. One that has been festering. One that has disturbed the flow of this place. "流水不腐. Flowing water never rots." a famous idiom, no doubt the teachings of his master. The hag raises her eyebrows, her sunken eyes piercing. She hasn't blinked. Hasn't said a word. Beads of sweat begin to glisten on Nanfeng's bald head from the humidity of the swamp. As the silence grows, so does the tension in the air. Monk Xue studies the stranger, unable to determine if she's a friend or a foe. Though uneasy, his body language remains perfectly relaxed. With the exception of an instinctual twisting of his prayer beads, he starts again. "Something stirs in this place... Like still water in the sun. It's been gathering energy in the dark, feeding on the very spirit of this town and its people. I felt it first six months ago." The monk notices the absence of the low buzz of bugs, or the ribbits of frogs, as though the swamp itself is holding its breath. The shadows elongated as the darkness itself listened. "You've felt it too, haven't you?"
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