MojangWasMyIdea

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?))

I sit on the cushion, and pull out a drink. I wipe the sweat off my brow as I begin to speak speak:
"I do not know my story, it has yet to be told. I have abandoned a simple life, one with my late Father and his farm which I have defended since I was a boy. Now that he is gone, I am searching for a purpose greater than wheat and cattle." I put my head down. "I wish to find land I can conquer for myself, or a conqueror I can stand behind." I take a drink to water my parched lips before I begin to speak again: "I have left peace to seek war. I have left behind a feast for starvation, and I will never again be satiated." I pull out some coins and hand it to the lady. "Thank you for your hospitality. I need rest and there is a long road ahead of me."