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?))
Izara eyes the old hag warily before slowly settling down on the cushion.
"Expecting me? That’s not concerning at all," she says, mumbling the latter part under her breath. "I just happened to pass by this town—won't be staying long."
She takes a quick glance around her surroundings before continuing. "And my story? Hm, not a question I get every day. It's a bit of a mess, really. I barely know half of it myself. Got washed up ashore, taken in by the town blacksmith. Got into a lot of trouble. Now, I’m just jumping from place to place—can’t stay long enough to enjoy peace." She sighs. "Reap what you sow, they say."
She shifts slightly before standing up. "I’d love to chat more, but... if you were expecting me, I don’t think that’s a good thing. No offense." A small grin flickers across her face before she dashes away.
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