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?))
Vaeriel hesitated at the hag’s words, her green eyes flickering toward the cushion. After a few long seconds, she stepped forward and sat, the faint shimmer of her silvery hair catching the candlelight.
“I... travel,” she said softly, her tone careful, deliberate. Another pause. “Looking for... a place to stay.” Her gaze shifted downward, voice barely above a whisper.
“From Norland,” she added after a moment. “i've had a Small family.... My father... sent me away... and mother... passed away”
She paused again, her expression dimming. “Growing up wasn’t easy,” she murmured. “He was... strict. Never liked that I stayed quiet. ”
Her hands folded in her lap, shoulders slightly hunched. “He talked. I listened. Maybe too much.” Another long silence passed before she added, almost to herself, “One day... I’d like to study alchemy or... something like it."
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