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.”
((How do you respond?))
Reluctantly, they sit down on the earthen floor before them.
"My name is Kolva", they say in a low voice, still a bit on edge at the presence of this person in front of them, "I am traveling as a nomad".
The hag looks them up and down. She looks at Kolva's hands, at their clothes, at their face and hair.
"Tell me your story", she repeats.
"I have been on foot for some time now. Traveling between settlements and towns, meeting people, learning customs, and observing each different culture. I am on a journey to learn about the world and the people in it. About the flora and fauna, the swords and armor, and all the kinds of experiences I can hear about from those I meet".
The two of them sit for a moment and the air stands still. In the hopes that that little description was enough to satisfy her, Kolva looks at them expectantly for a response.
"Kolva, the nomad..." the strange figure in front of them speaks in a husk tone.
"A wood elf?"
"Yes, how could you tell?"
"You've pointed ears and clothes made up of scavenged plants and animals".
They blush, for they felt embarrassed that they could be easily distinguished like that. The two continue their conversation...
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