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.”
((How do you respond?))
You hesitate, not really fond of the clear recognition this woman showed for you. Slowly, you take a few steps towards her, feeling welcomed by her homeliness, and you take a seat. Crossing your arms across your chest, you sigh, saying, "Well, I guess you'd want an introduction first, huh?" The woman stays silent and that pushes you to talk further, "Jeanne. Jeanne Eldove."
You uncross your arms and brace your arms against your criss-crossed knees, not looking her in the face as you speak, "I was born in the Kingdom of Balian and my family was on the poorer side, my dad, Elliott, was a carpenter and my mom, Autumn, was a painter, so you can imagine. My mom was tragically killed when I was 6 in a robbery gone bad.. I just hate thinking about it… It’s not fair what they did to her, my dad was gone and what was I supposed to do? I watched her die hiding like a coward under her bed..” You inhale roughly and look up, attempting to blink away the tears beginning to form, because that’s only the beginning. With an audible exhale, you look back down at the cushion you’re sat on and begin to fiddle with the tassels on it as you spoke.
“It was my dad and I for a good while after that, just until I was about 13. Then he got really sick.. I tried to take care of him with whatever I could, I even stole from the Heartlanders to try and save him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t save either of them, and all that was left was me, myself and I.” You clear your throat, not very peachy about the dead silence you were receiving from the woman, but at least she listened. Not many people did that anymore. Sitting up and fiddling with the rings on your fingers, you continued, “I was on my own since then. 10 years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday.. Well, since I was on my own, I didn’t have a job, so I took up pick pocketing and charming my way through life. Didn’t stay in the same spot, always moving around, it wasn’t hard at all. You just have to get used to the quiet, you know? Alone and moving, the dark and quiet always there to keep me company, along with a few books.” You shrugged, beginning to look around the tent for anything that caught your eye. Of course, you wouldn’t steal anything from this old woman since she’s been listening to you ramble on, you have morals.
“I don’t typically make friends because of the way I live, bouncing around from town to town and what-not, but I think it would be a nice change. I don’t wanna die being a complete ghost my whole life, then disappearing, yeah? I’m definitely not looking forward to becoming a local legend or something stupid like that.” You scoff at the thought and look over at the woman finally. She’s sat there with her undivided attention on you and seeing that made you go silent. You didn’t really like opening up about your past with anyone, you’re not sure why she compelled you to spill your guts so effortlessly and it made you nervous.. If it wasn't obvious enough, you clearly had trust issues, it just took the right person to open you up about yourself, you supposed.
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