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?))
Finnley take a seat at the cushion floor, the damp air making the cushion feel almost like sitting on damp patch of grass. As Finnley attempts to avoid the direct gaze of the women, he slowly starts to talk about his story. "I was merely travelling when I found my self drawn to this place" He pauses for a second and lowers his eyes to look at the table in-between them. "I adventure trying to find my purpose, going from place to place, but yet to find a place I belong, a place where I am needed" He pauses one again, this time unsure if he wants to continue talking. "I am sorry but I never got your name, I am Finnley belladonna, and you are?
