Pohutekawha

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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?))

In the dim glow of the candlelight, Sepora Ianna steps into the tent, her caramel hair falling into her face as she carefully adjusts her footing amongst the trinkets covering the floor. The tent smells of a mysterious herb, one she cannot place. Cautiously she glances around, her eyes falling upon the hag as she carefully seats herself on the pillow. 

"You want to hear my story?" she says, her voice wavering a little. Without waiting for a reply, she continues "I was born to a high elf father and a wood elf mother - that's all I know." She pauses, her voice faltering as she recounts her painful past. "They left me in the nearby forest. My father was angry and my mother ashamed. I think my father didn't want to be seen with a wood elf...though that's just my guess." Her eyes mist as she drifts into her memories. "After that, I grew up in the forest, living amongst the flora and fauna. Its not particularly luxurious but its home" she nods, smiling slightly. "But lately, there's been something strange - the trees and animals are getting more restless with each night. A saying I read once guided me here, to you." she leans forward, her gaze sharp. "You said you've been expecting me? How so?"