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?))
SCENARIO:
I lower myself onto the cushion, the fabric sagging beneath my weight as I adjust my cloak. My gaze drifts briefly to the floating candles before taking a seat. "My story? It is simpler than you may think…" I exhale softly, fingers brushing the worn leather at my belt. "I was an elf serving a nobleman, alongside a handful of lower-elves." Then the people attacked… blood spilled." My jaw tightens as the memory flickers behind my eyes. "And well.. now I am simply roaming.." I tilt my head slightly, studying her with quiet suspicion. "But you probably already knew that, right? If you truly expected me to arrive here… you would know."
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