BeastlyBeaker

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?))

Valadre glances down at the cushion, letting her eyes linger for a moment on its moth-eaten corners before looking back up. She continues to stand, but nods her head as an attempted sign of respect. "I'm not sure who you are or why you've been sent to intercept me,"  she says with with a steady, even voice-- nerves tug at her insides, but her voice does not waver. "I'm here on a matter of private importance, and I do not usually find myself telling stories to strangers. Might I ask for your story before I share mine? I'll buy us drinks."  She looks into the eyes of the old hag with the distinct feeling she said the wrong thing. Something in that hag's blank eyes demands truth. She speaks again, the words blurting out in quick succession in a tone that betrays her fear, "My name is Valadre, I'm a nobody with no family from a dying race, and I'm looking for a sister that may not exist. I learned of her only through the deluded dreams of my dying grandmother, and she's my only hope for learning who I am. My grandmother was all I had for a long time-- she and I were mostly nomadic, didn't really fit anywhere, and she never spoke of anyone else. Her memory failed her as she got older, but she began to mention a sister. Everyone who met her told me she was delusional and making things up, but I haven't lost hope that my sister is out there. Do you know anything about her?"

Side note: the sister is not a person real or fake and does not really exist