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?))
Lolas lowers their hood, the fabric damp from the mist outside. They glance around the tent, then quietly move to the cushion, settling with careful poise.
“I didn’t think anyone here would recognize me,” they say, voice low and even. “But if you’ve been expecting me, then you already know my path isn’t one I share lightly.”
A pause. The flickering candlelight catches in their eyes.
“Still… I’ve come too far to turn back now. If you're truly listening—then I’ll begin.”
