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?))
Her mouth suddenly felt dry, as if she had swallowed cotton. Alys hesitated, her fingers curling slightly at her sides before she forced a small, apologetic smile.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she admitted.
She glanced toward the hag, hoping to be dismissed, but the woman only stared back, unimpressed and unyielding. The silence stretched, heavy and expectant, until Alys exhaled softly and relented.
“I am what you would call FarFolk,” she said at last.
She watched as confusion flickered across the hag’s face. The woman’s gaze traveled slowly over her, studying every detail before settling on her eyes.
“FarFolk…” the hag repeated, doubt lacing her voice. “That wouldn’t have been my first guess.”
Alys let out a quiet breath, a hint of humor slipping through her nerves. “Because of how I dress?”
“Amongst other things,” the hag muttered.
Alys tilted her head slightly. “Like what?”
“Your eyes,” the hag replied. “I’ve never seen a FarFolk with anything but brown eyes. Green is rare, but one green and one brown?” She narrowed her gaze. “Is that common in your lineage?”
At that, Alys’ expression softened. She looked away briefly, her voice quieter when she answered. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know my family.” She paused, then added, “I’ve been a nomad for as long as I can remember. Everything I know about myself comes from stories told by strangers.”
Her gaze drifted back to the hag, steadier now. “That’s why I keep moving. Every place, every person... it’s another chance to learn where I come from.”
The hag leaned forward slightly. “And what will you do if you find what you’re looking for?”
Alys gave a small nod, a faint smile touching her lips. “When I find it, I’ll be content.”
“And how long will that satisfy you?”
A smirk tugged at Alys’ expression. “I suppose I’ll find out when I get there.”
The hag studied her for a moment before asking, “What’s your name, girl?”
Alys straightened just slightly. “Millalysanya (mill-alice-ann-ya),” she said, then added, “but I prefer Alys.”
A faint smile crossed the hag’s face. “I look forward to hearing of your endeavors, Alys.”
Alys returned the smile, a quiet determination settling behind her eyes. “I look forward to living them.”
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