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?))
Example: (delete this)
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until Joven shifts his weight on the cushion, the fabric giving off a musty smell that matched everything else in this forsaken place. He studied the old woman for a moment, then let out a slow breath.
"Story's not much to tell," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was a town guard. Good pay, decent work. Then the drought came three summers back and everything dried up. Crops failed, people got desperate, started turning on each other. The lord fled with what gold he could carry and left the rest of us to sort it out."
He paused, his jaw tightening at the memory.
"I stayed longer than I should have. Thought maybe things would get better. They didn't. Lost my wife to fever that winter, no coin for medicine. After that, there wasn't much keeping me there. So I took what little I had and started walking. Been drifting from town to town since, picking up work where I can. Heard there might be opportunities here, grim as this place looks."
He glanced toward the tent's entrance, then back at the hag.
"So that's it. Just another man looking for a fresh start, I suppose. Though I'm curious how you knew I was coming."
