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?))
T'sarra eyes the old woman with thinly veiled caution, alert glances darting over the space. "'M afraid I'm in no position to... properly acquiesce 'yer request- uh, Madam." She responds hesitantly, a tinge of confusion melting into her slight accent. The old hag's warmth is a pleasant surprise, despite the initial anxiety about being in such a strange place. With a more relaxed demeanor, T'sarra moves to sit cross-legged on the soft cushion. "But I'll tell ya wha' little I've got, lass. Might jog me memory."
A brief air of silence passes through the elf, eyes focused on a flickering flame of candle, as if the fire was familiar. "I don' remember much about my life." The dark elf starts, her tone laced with raw honesty, "I've lost all recollection o' myself, save for my first name and a few fleeting blips from the past. Yet, theres always this naggin' feelin' of... Familiarity. The more I go on, the more I feel that... Maybe theres somethin' I'm missin', somethin' so obvious." A hand reaches up to toy with the gold medallion hung around her neck, a thumb smoothing over the engraved skull details.
"What I do know is that I was messed up- Badly. When I first woke up with my condition, I had this injury." T'sarra lazily gestures to a discolored patch of burnt flesh on her left shoulder, sadness gracing her features. "Still healin', it is! Hurt like a-..." Sheepish eyes flit over the old woman's expression, "Ahem, like a curse..."
"Any who- Ever since then, I've been... Tryin' to find myself, I suppose. A pathetic journey for someone who wouldn't recognize the back of her hand if it slapped her!" A bitter laugh erupts in her throat, a sad attempt to cover up the pain of such a substantial loss.
A long, uncomfortable pause silences the Dark Elf's story, a dim glint in the darkness of her eyes. "I don' care what it takes. I need to know who I am. Will you help me, lass?"
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