Dramatude

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.”
 

Esmeray's head snapped up at the old woman. A smirk appeared on her face as she approached the cushion and took a seat - her gaze not leaving the woman. "I- My story?" she questioned. "I must say, my story is not a happy one." Esme relaxed into the cushion and took a deep breath. "As does for everyone, my story begins with my birth. Under the light of the moon - from where I get my name, Esmeray - I was born a healthy babe. My mother and father loved me with all their being, but that soon faded away. My mother died early in my childhood, due to an illness that plagued her." Esmeray looked down in her lap with a saddened look. "The love of my father's life was gone, and he became a heartless man. I was left to live in his crossfires. Day after day, night after night, enduring his relentless wrath. But he, too, would soon pass. The cause of his death being illness. But, I believe it was due to karma - finally taking over his cold, heart. Nonetheless, I was free." Her face was locked on the other woman's. She scanned her wrinkles and impurities, before her focus was abruptly snapped back. "Wait. You were expecting me?"