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?))
"My story? That's awful personal." Mocha pauses, eyeing the woman for a moment. "But what can it hurt. Who are you gonna tell anyways?"
"I was born the bastard child of a poor woman and a rich merchant. He never wanted nothing much to do with me. Fair enough. I never wanted anything to do with him myself. I'm happy enough to ignore that he exists. Mother was bitter about it though. Made me miserable growin' up for it, y'know, 'cus I ruined her chances at being something instead of nothing. When I was... ehhh, like... 16 or so, she kicked me out. I didn't really wanna leave my little siblings, but what can you do? I just kinda... walked to the nearest port. And got on the first ship that would take me."
He paused again, seeming somewhat lost in thought. Perhaps a little emotional at the memory, or maybe just thinking.
"I wish I could say my time on that ship was good, but no dice. Funny how that works, moving from one hell to another. They were eager to take me because they were pirates and wanted the hands. Pretty shitty people, but all I had. I made one friend, some half-orc kid. My age. We were fast friends..."
"Things were pretty good, for a while anyways. Three years, I got. Going on adventures, stealing, avoiding death. I thought myself pretty untouchable honestly. What 19 year old wouldn't? But, things don't last forever..."
Mocha turned away, looking at the wall. This part was hard to say. "We got caught up in a storm. Shipwreck. A lot of us- died. I should have, I think, but I managed to cling onto a piece of driftwood until another ship saw me and deposited me at the nearest port. I don't know who else might've lived. Maybe I'm the only one."
He sighed. "In the past though. Now I'm just, here. Thinking about opening a tea shop of sorts, or something. Y'know, something normal so I can finally like... settle. Live as a normal person..."
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