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?))
“…You’ve… been expecting me?” My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to. I clear my throat. “I don’t even know how I ended up here. I was just following a light in the fog. I thought maybe it was a guidepost or a ferry, not—this.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other, eyes flicking from the floating candles to her face, then back to the exit.
