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?))
“Where to begin?” Styrax chuckled nervously, sitting on the molded stool. Her eyes flitted around the room as she avoided the hag’s gaze. It felt like an eternity since she had been around trusted company, and the debilitating heartache of isolation had knocked Styrax permanently off-kilter. “During the fall of Elveness, I got separated from my family on the way to Nevaehlen. Could you please point me in the right direction?”
