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.”
Wrenn's eyes dart to the hag in the back of the tent, then to the cushion, unsure. "I'll stand, for now", she says as she lets strands on her hair fall over her shoulders, crossing her arms.
"If you've been expecting me, then surely you know my story by now." Her eyes narrow, studying the hag for a moment before drawing a deep breath, realising the hag is harmless. She exhales: "... fine. But my story stays within this tent."
Wrenn takes a seat and crosses her legs. The scent of the hags damp clothes mixed with the heat of the candles has a disarming effect on Wrenn, making her feel a bit more relaxed. "10 years ago, I was exiled by my Mali'ker family. They hated me, and for good reasons I guess", she lingers, the blank staring face of her sisters corpse flashing in her mind. "I've had many years to think about what I did, why it happened. My sister, she..." Wrenn trails off, realizing she hadn't thought about her family in a very long time. She looks into the eyes of the hag, but as she remembers, it's almost like she's looking through the hag. "My sister was the favorite. Their 'princess'", she spat. "If my parents didn't want her death on my hands, they shouldn't have made everything about our damn lives so competitive. And now..." she breaks the hags gaze coming back to the present, looks down at her flexing hand, spotting a speck of dirt under one of her fingernails. "Now they have no children left. Isn't that just tragic?" She flicks the dirt away with her thumb nail.
"When I turned 18, they kicked me out. I've been travelling the diaspora ever since, searching for something meaningful to occupy my long life with, but I've been unlucky." Wrenn carefully moves some hair out of the way of her face before placing both hands back on the knee that's crossing her other leg. "Maybe my luck is finally turning, hag?"
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