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?))
Vanora knows he should have left, Terminus and Sylvia were waiting out for him to move on from this dingy town. "I don't..." At the same time, his legs did ache from their walk. "I suppose I can spare a few minutes, especially if I have been expected here." He didn't expect the words to flow so freely, the back of his mind worried about how much of this could be used against him. It was snuffed out quickly. "I come from Aeldin, it's a landmass far off the coast. It's been..." He motions his hand around as it contains the finisher to the sentence. "We just arrived from boat." The silence that followed wasn't oppressive so he continued hesitantly. "S-so refugees, technically, it hasn't been too hard but coin will run out eventually." He pauses to exhale a breath, his eyes flicked back to the tent flaps. "Sylvia is too young to work obviously, and Terminus would never be far from her. It kind of leaves me to make enough for the three of us." He splutters then backtracks quickly, "I mean, I don't want the two of them to work, it's not a burden or anything really. If I truly had to pin point an emotion for this, I guess the proper term would be duty?"
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