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?))
Noxo stops just inside the tent flap and wrinkles his nose at the thick swamp smell mixed with candle smoke. His bare feet press quietly into the damp dirt as he ducks through the low entrance, golden brown eyes quickly scanning the lit candles and the old hag watching him from the back. He tugs his tattered black cloak tighter around himself, ears twitching under the hood like he's checking for trouble outside. After a quick look back toward the dark swamp, he steps forward and drops onto the cushion with a small huff, crossing his legs. “Expecting me, huh?” he says in a low voice, a tiny smirk in his tone even though he sounds cautious. “Name’s Noxo. Had to run from up north after nicking the wrong purse, pissed off some nasty types who don’t let that slide. This soggy swamp seemed like a good spot to hide out till things cool off, so that’s me. What about you, old lady, how’d you know I’d show up here?”
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