Khanond

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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.”

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I stood with as much bravery as my body physically allowed, the bumps on my arms and back of my neck betraying the emotion I tried to exude. I took a shaky step, eyeing the strange woman I've only met before in fearful whispers. My breath quickened, my pulse matching the beat, my feet trading steps closer and closer to the creature in front of me, every natural instinct telling me to run. I willed myself to speak. "You.." I started, taking the first deep breath since I entered what was certainly going to be my tomb. "Know me?" I watched the old toad of a woman stare at me, anticipating my response I've yet to give her. 

Shaking my head, I began again. "I'm Achardis, though I suppose you knew that."

"I'm coming from a far away land, my father was murdered two decades ago, I took revenge," I spoke matter-of-factly, once again eyeing her, expecting more information or a sign of an opinion or emotion. "I ran from the men who sought to revenge my.. 'revengence'."

I cringed at my choice of words, wondering if that was even a word at all, though the woman seemed to settle with my answers, as if reading me, I didn't like the way she stared. The only thing I hoped to do now was live a normal life, one my father strived for when he still walked the mortal realm, this woman seemed to be my ticket.