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?))
Caderyn's gaze lingered on the hag, a slow smile curling at the edge of his lips, allowing dimples to shine. The hand at the hilt of his blade eased away after a dragged pause; he lowered himself onto the cushion with the ease of an elf accustomed to being watched. Dipping his head in greeting, he fixed his voice to speak of a grand upbringing. After all, he had been taught, drilled even, on how to recite such a lineage. Luckily for him, this was not a court hall, and the hag before him was certainly no courtier. So, in this town, a vast journey from home, he chose deception instead.
"My story?" He echoed as if the narrative he now planned to spin was a sweet nectar on his tongue. "You'll be disappointed, I'm a mere sellsword." Cade gestured to the blade at his side, a bitter laugh following, "Or I was, until that bastard decided I wasn't valuable. Lost my coin, and my way not long after."
The boy leaned forward, elbows resting on his folded legs, smile wide, "Been chased out of two towns," two fingers were held up to emphasize, "blamed for a fire I didn't start.. mostly." Kissing his teeth, he let out a sigh that eased his smile, "And now I'm here." With a wink, he dropped his tone to a hush, "So, if anyone stops by, you never saw me, ay?" Finally, Caderyn fell silent, allowing the hag to further question him.
(P.S. I'm just using this FTU skin below temporarily until my friend finishes my skin ^_^)
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