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?))
Took cautious steps forward, deep breaths taking in mossy air. His head tilted to the left showing his curiosity, 'Me? Who would expect me of all people?' Despite his wonder, he takes a seat on the cushion offered to him, folding his legs into each other and resting a satchel on his lap. "My story, huh..." He takes a long breath in: it really does smell like home. "Not a very fun one, really. Though, I can entertain your curiosity if you'd like."
"I've come from somewhere far from here, without much of a name. Not that I can remember anyway. Outcasted, travelled, found my people, and lost them all the same. I come here to this land, Azuras you call it, in hopes of once again finding my people..." A small pause, "My place." He smiles, the short, sad story coming to an end. He rests a moment longer before standing, with only his satchel to grab. "As much as I'd enjoy talking, I believe I should take my leave... Must keep moving, you know?" The smile on his face widens before fading as he makes his way out of the tent quietly.
Recommended Comments