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.”
Kaliya would cast a feigned tentative glance around the tent, observing every detail secretively in the likelihood of needing to leave efficiently when it came to it. Trust had never come to the elf easily; it was hard when she had been alone for so long, and the very few interactions she had were unkind. It took Kaliya quite a few moments before she reached the elder, her steps light, nay a single sound to be heard except for the winds outside brushing up against the fabric of the shelter. The elf kept up a facade of looking weak, a move she had used many a’ time in scenarios of high pressure.
Kaliya’s eyebrows worried up, a small smile rising on her lips at the woman politely before a quiet, confident reply was given.
“I do not understand how you know me, but I won’t question your knowledge as it may be rude…I am unsure of the customs here in this town.”
She took a seat on the cushion, shifting to get comfortable before really taking a look at the woman in front. Details, and observations were made as to who this mysterious person was, but yet she never spoke aloud about them. Kaliya weighed what the consequences would be if she shared her story with this hag, coming to the conclusion that it couldn’t be that bad if she did. A few minutes passed before she began to speak her story of how she came to be in the present moment.
“There is not much of a story to me, except for the fact that I lost my family to a fire in the forest we lived in quite a while ago…perhaps when I was six? It was just me, my mother and my little brother, but I saw things that night that, as a six year old, I should not have…I shall not go into the details, I am afraid. I do not like to recall, but...it is also how I lost my right eye. I did not escape fully unscathed, sadly." She paused, pointing at the forest green eyepatch that adorned her right eye, taking a moment for a deep breath before continuing, “My father, I do not know of, he had disappeared just a few years before, and my Mother never spoke of him, so he remains a mystery to me, just as you are. After that it was quite a blur of trying to survive, although it was not too difficult. The forests were always my home, and so I learned to use what I had around me in order to live. I ate fish, berries; I made weapons out of wood and came to enjoy carving flowers and animals into
them. I made a home in a vacated cave I had found and learned to shoot from a bow to hunt, I did become rather good at it; I made money from my designs, and travelled to different towns for friendly archery competitions also. And so, here I am. This quaint town is beautiful in its own way.”
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