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?))
"How did you know I was coming" Nephiah responds, unease rising. "No one is even supposed to know I'm alive". Nephiah scans the tent, the crone's face, for anything familiar. Their thoughts race with every possible outcome. "I'll tell you my story if you tell me how you know me, and the names of anyone else who knows. If word that I'm alive reaches my people back home, I and everyone around me will be in grave danger" The woman nods eyes glinting with knowledge yet untold. Nephiah sinks onto the cushion, and begins...
"Back home, family is all that matters. It's our culture, our way of life. But that wasn't enough for me. I wanted to travel the world. That future was unacceptable, and they tried to trap me and change me into the perfect dark elf. I managed to escape with my life, but they think I'm dead, and would stop at nothing to bring me back if they knew where I really was. Now I need to know who knows". Nephiah looked up, but the hag was gone.
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