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.”
Ravine's eyebrows furrow, an awkward smile gracing her young features. A bead of sweat begins to form, dribbling down the side of her face before she clears her throat. “Yeah… story,” Ravine squeaks. “Well, um… I was born blind in my left eye. I don’t… uh…” She glances down at her hands, stretching her fingers before continuing, making awkward eye contact again. “I just… travelled. A lot, I guess. Since I was young, actually. Found this cloak while I was at it… don't worry, I dipped it in the nearest water I could find to make sure it wasn't dirty.”
Ravine seems lost in thought before the older lady gives her an unimpressed look. She scoffs in response, leaning back in the chair. A cockier personality begins to rear its head. Once Ravine realizes she can’t get anything out of the woman, she doesn’t bother hiding it. “My parents were adventurers. Dunno if they were the best, but they sure as hell taught me all I needed to know. Trade of the trick… trick of the—whatever. One day I woke up and they were just gone. Their belongings… food… all of it. And what did I do? I started moving. First I tried catching up—following their scent like some kind of dog—but… ended up everywhere else but back in their arms.”
Ravine lets out a short laugh, sharp and bark-like. She then points to her nose. “I might be half-blind, but that doesn’t give me any kind of magical ability. Couldn't track them, So I um.. gave up. Decided to settle down somewhere and live? I guess?”
Ravine looks unimpressed with herself for a moment. Then her pale blue gaze drags back to the woman. “That’s what you wanted to hear?” she asks, her voice dry, almost cold.
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