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?))
Faelan's eyes adjusted slowly to the warm flicker of candlelight, the heavy scent of damp earth clinging to his cloak as he stepped further into the tent. He ducked more to clear the sagging entrance, his tall, elvish frame nearly brushing the hanging candles as he moved inside. He cast a brief, scrutinising glance over the crooked shacks and cabins outside, his expression tightening with faint distaste. With a quiet huff, he brushed a bit of dust from his sleeve, as though the very air of the town had offended his attire.
He didn't sit right away. He glanced at the cushion, then back at her with a faint arch of his brow, as if weighing whether she was worth the time. Eventually, he lowered himself, sitting cross-legged.
"My story?" he echoed, voice low, precise.
He met her gaze.
"Born into war. Raised on strategy. Forged in fire and steel. I don't tell it for pity and I don't dress it up in meaning. I am what necessity made me."
"I'm here on military business, though I doubt the kind your town's used to hearing about."
He glanced around the tent, taking in the drifting incense and the smell of herbs. "This place reeks." He states, matter-of-fact.
"I don't care for prophecy, yet here I am, drawn by something that doesn't fit cleanly on a map."
"You say you've been expecting me? Then speak quickly." He tapped the hilt of his blade idly, out of habit. "Because if this is some tired riddle, I'll leave you in the swamp with the rest of the rot."
He leaned back slightly, eyes flicking to the old hag.
"Your kind loves to talk in circles when you have nothing useful to say."
"I didn't come here for stories. I came for answers, real ones."
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