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?))
Leila hesitates at the tent’s entrance, the smell of moss and smoke thick in the air. She steps inside, keeping a grip on her seethed dagger as she sits across from the hag. “My story?” she says after a moment, her tone rough from travel. “I’ve come looking for a weapon, a blade said to be bound to the one strong enough to claim it. If you truly were expecting me, then you already know why I’m here.” Her green eyes don’t waver. “So, tell me where to start.”
