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.”
Divayth gets nervous and puts his notebook into his bag without taking his eyes off the woman. "I was looking for a lost city underground. I follow rumors, a few forgotten stories..."
Divayth scratches his head. “But if you're asking who I am, I'm one of the Valin'der. I think my great-grandfather Duvec was a slave, and they must have escaped afterward. I spent my childhood in Laurelin. My father was a quartermaster on duty in the garrison. My father insisted that I enlist in the city patrol. You know; Hot food, regular salary and a simple job. I had different concerns, I tried to get into college. I like learning about the world. I couldn't get accepted to college, and as I got older, I couldn't stay at home. I equalized my money, bought a horse, and set off on the road. I'm compiling the stories of my people. , I'm learning and traveling."
Recommended Comments