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?))
Mistvara's eyes settled upon the hag's gaze, carefully noting down her features - as possible as that was in this dimly-lit cabin. She sighed, giving her eyes a moment of respite.
"I do not remember, agreeing to an interrogation. With all of my manners considered."
The hag smiled in response.
"What harm could sharing a few words with this old widow bring?"
The elf pondered for a moment, before seating herself on the cushion, hands falling down to her knees.
"I suppose that is courtesy here. Well then..." Mistvara took another moment of thought for herself and faced the old lady once more, reluctant but willing to share some of that which had befallen her over the last few years. "I was born an only child to my two parents - as most of my kin are. They were traditional, in all nuances of that word. My father was a military man. He wasn't the most kind, but he taught me the basics of holding the sword. For that, I'll forever be grateful. For other things...well, that is arguable. My mother was helping out my grandfather with some local business he ran. What became of it I still do not know. What I do know, however, is that neither of these professions were suitable with my true passions and interests. That were books...and knowledge. I love to dive through old documents and scrolls and piece things together myself rather than having someone else quote answers for me. That is also the virtue I seek to uphold myself - to be impartial. I sometimes get dirt for that, but I do what I think is right. Maybe, I am not always in the clear, but every day is new learning grounds."
The hag brought forth a cup of tea, placing it down for herself, glancing over to the elf with the same warm smile still on her face.
"A cup for yourself?"
"No thank you."
"Well then, I hope you continue. Your stories are very sweet to my old ears. A grandma my age doesn't see much adventure day-to-day." she laughed and sipped from her tea.
"What more is there to tell? I travel and I speak to strangers. They often have much to say."
"You are quite far from home, if you find yourself here. I'd assume that was a difficult journey given your origin."
"I'm not always the brightest. That I'll admit. Years ago I snuck out together with a travelling party. I didn't see much of them afterward but most of my family home thought I was kidnapped. I learnt of that through a boy that travelled with ears too big. Life was difficult and not for a fraction better. I was disappointed to learn that stigmas and filth are everywhere."
"Hmmm..." The hag tasted her tea again, the smile now gone. "And now, what?"
"I remain unsure. I might return to Haelun'or. I underestimated the size and prestige of our library. Whether I'll be accepted or not, I do not know. My blood has not been tainted, but perhaps my mind has. Only time will show me."
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