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.”
Slowly, her eyes travel through the tent but stay on the old woman in front of her; quickly, the High Elf would furrow her brows, yet move closer and lower herself to sit down on the cushion; as she sat, her hands moved to her lap, careful not to wrinkle it. Valerie's long ears would twitch at the ask; a long moment of silence had been caught between them as she wondered if it were truly worth it to explain herself to a stranger. But with a deep sigh, the woman cleared her throat and began. "I'm unsure of who exactly you are, yet I'll humor you for the sake of boredom." The wood elf gripped her dress for a fraction of a second, yet she looked at the old lady with a plain face.
"I was born and raised deep in what used to be a high forest." Valerie's voice lowered as she admitted her past, her eyes moving from the old lady onto her still-tightened hands; had she imagined letting go of her dress? "The middle child out of 7 children, the earlier points of my life had consisted of pure unseriousness." The High Elf paused, taking a deep sigh. "Yet one day after arriving from a party at a nearby human town, I entered my home to find my entire family slaughtered brutally." Her brows furrowed as she shed a tear. "That had been the last moment I had spent in my home-town, as I was unable to continue my life there and instead decided to head to the island of Silverwood." Valerie's light blue eyes had turned into a dark array of colors, as if reflecting a stormy ocean night.
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