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?))
"My story?" she asked carefully looking at the woman. The hag seems calm with some kind of warmth radiating from her, yet... she makes Athilda feel uncomfortable and anxious. "My story is very simple, I cannot live with my parents anymore. I am looking for a job, can I get one in this..." Athilda paused looking for a good word without sounding too condescending or rude. This is not what she got used to. It smelled awful, her bare knees were scraped by branches and her clothes were soaked wet with overwhelming moist "...town?" Athilda swallowed. This is where she is right now. This is what she has to work with, otherwise... she doesn't even want to think about going back home...
Suddenly a flashback of memories hits Athilda. Her beautiful, comfortable room in her mother's mansion in Aaun. Her parents are strictly religious people, always wanted her to follow a spritualistic path but Athilda just.... couldn't! It was not her! Athilda feels her anger raising now as she thinks about it, all those heated arguments with her father at the dinner table. She wanted to be an artist. Art was always her passion and yet it was always laughed at by her father. Her mother called Athilda obscene words and repeated all over again that she should give herself to higher powers. Athilda couldn't take it anymore and she ran away and ran and ran for 2 weeks, nearly starving.... until she found herself in this little dim, wild, moldy and wet town looking for a job, for a roof over her head...
"A job you say?" the old woman asked. "Grab this bucket and start cleaning this pile of moss. And talk. I'm not stupid. I see there's something on your mind, girl".
And this is how for the first time since she ran away from home Athilda talked aloud about her dreams of becoming an artist not fearing for being abused anymore.
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