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?))
Louie de Aspremont pushed into the tent, the damp air clinging to his cloak. He sat on the cushion without hesitation, his eyes fixed on the hag as she studied him.
“My name is Louie de Aspremont,” he said firmly. “I was born the son of traders in a far-off land, and from my first steps I knew I was meant for more than a life of coin and caravans. Since boyhood I trained with sword and shield, dreaming of knighthood, of carving a place for myself where none was given.”
He straightened, his voice gaining weight as he spoke.
“The lands I knew are gone, but I endure. This place—” he gestured toward the swamp beyond the tent “—is the beginning of my ambition. Here, I will raise my name from nothing. Here, I will found a house worthy of honor, a line of knights to stand for generations.”
His gaze locked on the hag’s, defiant and unwavering.
“You say you’ve awaited me. Then tell me, old mother—do the fates welcome such a man, or will they test me until I break?”
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