You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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?)) Ginme bows respectfully removing his mask and hanging it upon his hip. "I...don't quite know what brought me here, or where it is really that I am going to. What I do know is I am determined to survive and carry on with my promise to my mother. After she had me she got sick, not uncommon, but without my father being in the picture it was hard for us to get by. Eventually we just didn't have the money to keep up with her medicine cost, she passed last year when it got cold. I promised her I would try to live for her and survive on my own." Ginme wipes a tear from his face and clears his throat lightly. "My story isn't done, and it will not be done until I have lived a life my mother can be proud of..."
