Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?))
They'd stand for a bit before saying, "Ah, yeah, sure."
"Yes, yes. Of course," the old hag said with a wide, toothy grin across her face. They cleared their throat and readjusted their bag as they waited. "What are you waiting for?" she said, and they stammered a little bit.
"Sorry, sorry," Alecsander said with a bit of sarcasm before finally sitting down. "Well, like you've probably heard, my name is Chamoile Astrid. I dream of becoming an Alchemist."
"Then why haven't you done very that?" the hag said.
"Well," they said, "for some reason, my family members and the people who lived around me thought Alchemy wasn't a 'real' or 'respectable' kind of magic. There were even some idiots who thought it shouldn't even be classified as magic. So I had to go on the run, to just be able to do what I wanted."
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