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?))
Rosalina sat down carefully on the cushion, her small frame almost sinking into it. Her shoulders stayed slightly drawn in, as if she were trying not to take up too much space. She folded her hands together in her lap, glancing around the tent for a moment before looking back to the old woman. The floating candles made her a little uneasy, but she tried not to show it.
“I’m from Mihyaar… in Ramasar,” she said softly. Her voice was gentle and quiet, the kind that could easily get lost if people were talking over her.
Rosalina shifted slightly where she sat, brushing a strand of brown hair behind one of her ears.
“It’s busy there. Markets everywhere, ships coming in all the time… merchants shouting prices across the streets. My family worked in the trade stalls. We sold small things people dug up from the desert—old trinkets, bits of stone… sometimes relics people said came from ruins left behind by the The Founders.”
Her fingers lightly twisted together as she spoke, a small nervous habit.
Growing up in Mihyaar meant hearing endless stories from travelers passing through the city. Rosalina had usually been the quiet one nearby, listening more than speaking, but those stories always stayed with her.
“Travelers always had stories… about ruins in the sands, strange creatures, places most people wouldn’t go,” she said. “I guess… I always wondered what those places were really like.”
She paused for a moment, thinking.
“When I started traveling, I realized how hard things can be for people outside the cities. I’ve seen villages struggling just to get by…” Her voice softened slightly. “So I try to help when I can. Even if it’s just something small.”
Rosalina gave a faint, almost shy smile.
“I’m not very good at speaking up for myself…” she admitted quietly, “but if someone else needs help, I’ll usually say something.”
She lifted her gaze back to the old hag, curiosity flickering in her brown eyes..
“So I left Mihyaar and started wandering. I thought maybe… if I saw more of the world, I might understand it better, even helping where I can, while im learning things along the way. So thats how i ended up here"
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