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?))
liorah lowered herself carefully onto the offered cushion, spine straight, voice calm.
“I am liorah Acalanthis, formerly of Karinah’siol. My path... diverged.”
She paused, letting the moment breathe.
“I was raised among stone spires and silver fountains, beneath the ever-watchful eyes of purity. I studied the arcane arts and the rhetoric of reason. Yet, I found no satisfaction in our endless chase for perfection. When I questioned, I was met with silence—or scorn.”
Her fingers curled slightly in her lap.
“I left. Not to defile blood or embrace savagery, but to learn what lies beyond the tower walls. I seek the forgotten, the lost truths buried beneath moss and mire. Not for glory—but clarity.”
She met the hag’s gaze, her own unflinching.
“Now, I am here. So I ask in return, seer... What do you know of me?
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