qicuu

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?))

Solen sits awkwardly on the gestured cushion, his eyes squint as he tries to think of where to start, "Well, I'll start with an introduction, perhaps...". Solen lifts his head up straight, holding direct eye contact, "I'm Solen Mire, a nomad if you will. I've probably travelled across half of Aevos now...", Solen tries to think of more to say before getting the good idea to show his journal, "oh, wait! Let me show you what I do!", Solen unbuckles his satchel, pulling out a large and heavy book, brushing off the sand from when he was in Vansk, "this is my journal! My goal for my travels has been to write about the people I meet, the sights I've seen and generally any information I have picked up on my journey!". He carefully slides the book back into his satchel, buckling it back up to secure it in place. "Truthfully... I've been pretty bad at keeping my goal. I keep forgetting to write about it, but I do remember every once in a while! I tend to use it more for my poetry, actually!", Solen swiftly shakes his head, "and no, you can't read any of it, I'm still working on it so they're not very good...". Solen sighs as he readjusts the goggles on his head, and pulls down the scarf covering his face. "I started my adventure a few months ago now. It might sound pretty out of character but... I am a Highlander", he scratches his neck, visibly uncomfortable talking about what comes next, "My parents have always wanted me to follow the same footsteps as the rest of my bloodline...", Solen grips hard onto his sleeve, slowly lifting it to reveal a dagger with symbols inscribed onto the blade, "this dagger was forged by my grandfather, and yes, he did use it in battle. But I only travel with it for my own safety, if there is ever a case where I need to defend myself... and...", Solen covers his face with his hand, wiping away what appears to be tears from his face, "I like to look at it sometimes... as a reminder, you know? I miss my family, but I can't just become a warrior without experiencing the world first, you know? I want to see the sights, the opportunities the world has for me", he forces his frown into a smile, avoiding eye contact with the old hag, "and I want to pursue poetry for a while... then maybe... a good few years in the future, I will see the battlefield as my family wish for me". Solen stand still in silence for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "Oh, oh, right. I remember why I came here anyway, I was just going to ask if you had directions to the nearby inn?", his smile changes from fake to sincere immediately, and he begins to chuckle lightly, "I slept on a rock last night, so I wouldn't mind a bed... and maybe a nice tankard of mead".