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?))
Bokka stepped into the tent, glancing around at the dim, unfamiliar space. His eyes flicked briefly to the old woman, and then down to his hands, which were nervously gripping the strap of his satchel. He paused, unsure of what to say, and then hesitated before kneeling down on the cushion she’d indicated.
“I-... I didn’t mean to intrude,” he mumbled quietly, soft and unsure. “I-... I've come down from the mountain to buy a proper furnace for my cabin and food for the winter.”
He shifted on the cushion, looking down at his lap, his fingers still fidgeting with the satchel. "T-These winters seem much colder ever since.. father passed-..."
He glanced up at her briefly, his expression both nervous and hopeful, though he still didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Y-You said you were expecting me-?,” he asked, his voice trailing off.
Recommended Comments