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?))
Alida would sit, though her confusion was clear with the expression written on her face. "Uhm, look I don't really know you," she would explain in a hesitant voice. Her gaze traveled down to her hands, fidgeting with the cushion's drawstrings. I'm too tired for this crap. She would think. Travelling for days without proper sleep was never a good idea. All I need to do is finish this conversation, and I'm out of here, she silently reminded herself. Alida would bite her lip, feeling the elder's eyes bore into her skull. It was an awkward ten seconds to say the least, as these thoughts and decisions ran through her mind. Yet, through all of this something seemed off, as though everything was just too perfect. She spoke up again, meeting the hag's gaze. "Besides that, I feel as though I can trust you." Alida would express, the lie exiting her mouth as easily as tying back her hair.
The old woman would sigh, a smile crossing her wrinkled lips. "Then, do hurry up," She would start. "I don't have all day." She would finish, voice scratchy and rough; it brough Alida a sense of discomfort and unease. What does this hag want from me?. Something is wrong, but I can't lay my finger on it. She would think. Though, she ignored her intuition.
"So," Alida would start, scratching at her nose; a nervous tick she had developed over time. "I grew up in a small village, by the sea." Alida has never talked about her childhood before. Yet words continued to spill from her mouth. "We weren't rich, nor poor. We owned a fishing store, as my father was a fisherman. Though when I was around twelve, my father and my mother died of a sickness that wiped out most of out village. I'd say that from then to now, its just been myself." She paused, emotions she hadn't felt for years began to surface. Her fist clenched, nails digging into her palm. She took a deep breath. "I saved enough money to sail out here to the mainland, and have been teaching myself how to use a sword and shield. Though, I'm not the best at it." Alida would chuckle quietly, eyes trailing back to the elder sitting across from her.
"Why ask, if you don't mind?" Alida would rest her elbow on her knee in slight curiosity. The hag would let out a laugh, ugly and scratchy as she clutched her stomach. The woman cocked her head to the side. "Ahh, I do this with everyone who stops by this town," The woman says, sipping from a tea cup. When did she get that? Alida pondered, biting at her lip. "You may leave now." The elder smiled yet again, worn face crinkling. Alida's confusion only grew, as she stepped out of the room, and walked to the door. With a hesitant glance back behind her, she opened the door and walked outside. Her nose filled with the murky and musky smell of the swamp around her.
"Weird," she murmered quietly to herself.

Recommended Comments