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.”
Bári steps forward and bows their head. "You must be Akila. My father told me you would help me on--"
"Not so fast." The hag moves through the candlelit tent with surprising agility. "First, you must prove yourself."
Akila peers down her nose at Bári. She smells of must and some sort of meat stew. Bári resists the urge to step back.
"Well, um, I guess you already know I'm a forest dwarf. My father is Losack and my mother is Reikelyn. My ancestors have mastered the ways of the forest. I want to learn--I need to learn--more than just the same things my family has studied. I'm going to be the first dwarf to befriend members of every race. I will learn how to interact seamlessly with all sorts of folk. They will trust me, and they will teach me their deepest secrets."
Bári gulps. They hadn't meant to reveal quite so much, but Akila had something about her that made Bári think they wouldn't get away with anything but the truth.
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