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.”
*Krohl tenses up. Krohl eyes the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until… Krohl's eyes widens after he relives the experiences of his village being burned down by the flaming arrows of the Elves he loathed so much*..."Der iz not'ing ta sae...dey diztroy'd everyting n dey will pay". His eyes glimmer bright red in his fury.
The old hag had been reading his fortunes, his pasts and watching his future through her farseer orb, she knew his story and nodded in acceptance. Maybe Krohl's fate was sealed, he may be subjected to the eternal torment of his past and shape the destruction of the future from that. However, the orb had shown her a different path, one she wasn't prepared to let Krohl in on just yet.
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