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.”
(Apologies for any errors in advance, Danish is my first language, and English is weird so I'm not the best at paragraph writing. Im hoping this will help me learn more complex words ^^)
Nyx takes one last look around the tent before sitting down. "Don't know how you know me, but I suppose I could use someone to confide in..." She says with a huff. "I'm a wood elf, but I have been told I dont act like one. I used to make little trinkets out of carved wood and rocks. I eventually want learn to use magic to bring some of them to life, like golem of sort. Though, I made a mistake, setting a flame some of my inventions, and myself.... They had to amputate my left arm, but i managed to make a prosetic out of cherry wood. The scars are a reminder to myself, not to push to far, or someone or myself will get hurt. I've only recently left my homeland, and im trying to find inventors like me. Perhaps you could help me?"
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