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?))
Corbin stands frozen for a moment beneath the flickering candlelight. His fingers twitch where they're clasped loosely behind his back, and he eyes the hag warily. "Corbin," he says lowly, voice rough from disuse. He finally moves forward to take a seat, rearranging the cushion to his liking. Corbin tucks his legs comfortably as he lowers himself smoothly to the floor. He rests his hands lightly on his knees. They itch for the comforting weight of his favored staff, but he refrains from drawing it from his back. "I'm not one to tell all to a woman I've just met, mind." Corbin continues, flashing a sharp smile. "The most I'll say is I was raised in an...isolated environment. I've only been on my own for the past three years."
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