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.”
"A new life, I suppose that's what I may call it?" Nixie looks with a gentle smile, a light bow as she straightens her back ever so slightly more. "There's not much to me however.." She mutters and sits down "I am but a maid, though not a maiden in any case, i've no fancy to my name. I don't remember much in fact. I've been me, for a few months, that is to say the 'me' that I remember; Nixie. Who knows what my real name was. It was said I was cursed when I woke, to forget ones memories. Magic can be cruel."
There's a tense silence, like the fog of the svamp can be felt more than before. Nixie remains seated, yet the urge to stand taps in her left foot, thumping lightly against the wooden damp floor. "I just need a new start." She says and looks to the ground for just a moment. "Yeah... Fear and hope. That's all I remember. That's all I know now."
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