Gingersnips

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?))

Idri advances no farther than the tent's entrance. Her nose wrinkles as her face pans across the interior. The candlelight wavers against the tattered walls, shaping and reshaping into a myriad of grotesque shades. She lays her hand over her sword's hilt, wrapping around the pommel before her eyes find the woman's in the back. ".. I prefer to stand, actually," she says. "I am Idri Stormbreaker, one of one hundred blades of the Blackthorn Guard. I travel in search of a raven-haired man with dual-colored eyes. Perhaps you have come across him?"

She waits, but the woman remains silent. Idri continues regardless. "He sacked and burned a farmstead south of here. The family is unhurt, but the damages are heavy enough to warrant a bounty. I intend to collect it. Not so much because of the reward. It is rather petty, considering the circumstances. No-" Her grip tightens. "A man like that deserves to face his victims."

"If you have not seen him, then my business here is concluded. Have a good day, miss." She bows her head and in one quick motion pivots back through the entrance.