rhettthecoldone

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?))

"Oh- expecting me?" Faeran’s heart began to palpitate faster and faster as he grew nervous walking towards the old, wrinkly crone. He brushed the leaves and dirt off of the damp cushion. Sitting down, he fought for the words and eventually spat out a combination of sentences, "I guess- er.. uhm-" The dark elf stumbled on his first words, eventually getting himself together,”Well I guess I don’t have much of a story but. It all began in some sort of religious group, my parents never told me what it was, just that they were born into it. I’ve never told anyone this but since you asked I’ll tell you. Don’t tell anyone else, I beg of you-“ She rolled her eyes,”Get on with it boy” Embarrassed, he began telling his story,”You see, my parents were well- heretics. They were also of different subraces. My father a Mali’ker, and my mother a Mali’atheral, giving me a plum tone to my skin. The group you see didn’t agree with separate races breeding. Because of this, my parents didn’t much agree with the religion they were born into. So, they were banished from the religious group and sent away. The group threatened to murder them if they didn’t flee the country, so obviously, they left. They left to the wilderness. A place full of trees and weeds. They gave birth to me there, raising me in a wooden cabin they had built. It was quite a peaceful life. We ate berries and nuts, and sometimes if my father got lucky, we would eat deer that he had hunted and cooked. I grew rather fond of the books my mother and father would bring back to the forest after gathering food from a nearby city market. When I came of the right age I left that peaceful little hut in the forest and began to travel the world learning everything I could about anything. My parents understood as they knew it was my dream to travel the world and explore the vast libraries. So I did that. I searched every category, fond of mostly all of them though my favorite topic was usually magic. One day when I came back home from the library, I- well,” He grew weary, dreading this part of the story. The old lady rolled her eyes once again,”Goodness! Speak boy, I don’t have all day.” He regained the confidence to continue his story,”Right- uhm I- well.. came back home and found my parents- dead…”Faeran began to tear up, trying his

best to hold them at bay,”Their throats had been slit open- and… th-that’s it really. I believe the murderer was someone from that religious group. It would make the most sense. Since then, I have been searching the world trying to find ways to avenge my parents death. I specifically have been looking for someone to teach me magic in order to gain at least some advantage and overall just for defense.  Even more specifically, Air Evocation. Something about it calls to me also I’m just scared to death, what if that group comes after me? I don’t even know if they know of my existence. I’d have no way to defend myself so thats why I need to have at least a small advantage. Faeran looked nervous, trying to keep it together. The hag looked at him with a rather unsettling smile,”Thank you very much young man. I feel your pain. My parents died as well. A child without their parents is a tragedy,” smiling she asked,”Would you like your fortune young man? I never did get your name.” He took a second to respond and eventually thought up a lie as he didn’t fully trust this woman,”I am th-Theyrail. I do have to be going. I don’t believe I have time for a fortune.”She read the lie so easily it was almost as if she was tearing into Faeran’s mind,”Well, Theyrail… I guess you will never know your story. Never.”The woman got up from her cushion revealing a once blanket covered body. Her clothes were drenched in a red liquid… resembling- blood. Faeran jolted out of the tent as fast as he could. “Goodbye ‘Theyrail’.” She said, loud enough to where he could hear. He kept looking back multiple times to make sure no one was following him. When he turned his head back for the final time, the tent was gone and he was no longer in the dingy, gloomy town he was in before.