Jonahan31

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?)) "My name is Jonathan," Jonathan said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I come from a village far north. it was raided and burned. I barely made it out." Jonathan paused, his hand tightening around the strap of my satchel. "I dont know why it happened, or who did it. But someone said you might." He lift his gaze to hers, unsure, but ready to hear whatever truth she offers.

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?)) I step cautiously into the tent, my boots squelching against the damp floor. The smell of moss and wax hangs thick in the air. Glancing around, I duck beneath a low-hanging candle and settle onto the cushion she gestured to, brushing rain from my cloak. "My name is Jonathan," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I come from a village far north. it was raided and burned. I barely made it out." I pause, my hand tightening around the strap of my satchel. "I dont know why it happened, or who did it. But someone said you might." I lift my gaze to hers, unsure, but ready to hear whatever truth she offers. sorry for the font i copy pasted from previous application

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, I step cautiously into the tent, my boots squelching against the damp floor. The smell of moss and wax hangs thick in the air. Glancing around, I duck beneath a low-hanging candle and settle onto the cushion she gestured to, brushing rain from my cloak. "My name is Jonathan," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I come from a village far north. it was raided and burned. I barely made it out." I pause, my hand tightening around the strap of my satchel. "I dont know why it happened, or who did it. But someone said you might." I lift my gaze to hers, unsure, but ready to hear whatever truth she offers.