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?))
Meg's face lights up with a wide grin. "Greetings!" She drops her body into the cushion, falling fluidly into a lazy pose. "I'm sure you've heard this story before, somehow the-" she twitches her head to the side and squints at the crone. "You were expecting me? Word certainly gets around fast here." She shakes, and her face is glowing with warmth again. "- captain didn't find enough coin for a full crew both ways. Guess he figured I wouldn't put up much fight." She leans forward and whispers, as though exchanging a secret. "I don't think he expected me to make it this far, had me up in the rigging more time than I was on deck." She shrugs. "Anyway, I've been drifting town to town, and someone in this one told me you needed an extra set of hands."
