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?))
Reluctant, Haera politely smile
—"Uh...g-greetings... ?" ,She stutters, unsure about the situation and what she should say. She takes a time to analyze the environment. Her eyes linger on the small details of the room: from the hanging candles to the dust flying all across the suffocating space.
The elf flinch at the statement of the old sorceress.
—"Me...?", a few seconds passed, marking her confusion, "expecting me ? ...Well-"
The lack of precision from the old lady is troubling.
Still hesitant, the long-eared girl answers:
—"I don't know if my story worth telling...", Haera looks awkwardly at the hag for a few seconds before eventually continuing with a sigh,
—"I am from the grand trees and forests; 'The city of the Dawn' as they say... But I like to say that I am from nowhere. I like to wander across the mountains, the seas and the cities... Nothing links me to Caurost... Nothing links me anywhere. So if you ask, my story is a story of vagrancy that has not much to say-"
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