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.”
Kuruk would do a double take at the beldame, his expression contorting in confusion. He was not used to being ambushed in a conversational setting, especially by someone who claimed to know him.
“How do you know me?? I’ve never met you a day in my life-...”
Kuruk muttered under his breath, refusing to break eye-contact with the crone.
Kuruk’s standoffish demeanour slowly melted away into one of curiosity and borderline fear: He could feel his body temperature rise; he could feel his body slowly tense; he could hear his heartbeat thump against his chest. Despite all of this, Kuruk couldn’t help but take step after step towards the tent…
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you where I’m from…” Kuruk said, hesitantly taking a seat upon the cushion, “... But no funny business - These teeth aren’t just for show.”
Kuruk would finally break eye contact with the old hag to take a moment to himself, closing his eyes momentarily and taking a short breath before speaking again.
“Ramasar. I… I am from Ramasar. It was this HUGE desert where the sun would beat down on you relentlessly. I spent most of my life as a… trader of, what I like to refer to as, ‘lost commodities’. I’m sure someone like you would understand - Items that had been… Carelessly left unsupervised.” Kuruk prattled, clearly trying to find more favourable ways of admitting that he steals and sells loot.
“To make a long story short, I used to travel between the major hotspots of Ramasar and find new homes for items I had picked up along my journeys - of course, for a small fee. In one of these journeys, I found a bea-UTIFUL pearl bracelet just… laying around! Of course, I picked it up and went on my merry way, thinking of the riches I could rake in with a score like that! In fact- I was so excited that I tried to sell it to the next person I saw… which just so happened to be the original owner of my new pearl bracelet…”
Kuruk was noticeably much more fidgety at this part of this story, now sitting cross-legged and bouncing his left leg slightly at an agitated tempo.
“Not long after that, it seemed like the entirety of Ramasar knew about my exploits. It didn’t take much after that for me to get chased out of the great desert entirely,” Kuruk chuckled, his laughter slowly trailing off into a disappointed silence...
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