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?))
Confusedly, Ivacia sits across from the woman with puzzled intrigue in her eyes. "Well, I, uhm.. I used to be a miner, you see, and now I travel the world in search of rare gems. I collect them, uhm..." She'd fidget with her hair as she stammered, nervousness overcoming her. She pauses for a moment to compose herself, before asking. "What do you mean you've been expecting me? Forgive my suspicion, but most of the time when someone says “I’ve been expecting you” they don’t have the best of intentions… Who even are you?” Ivacia’s face was flushed with flustered confusion and slight concern.
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