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?))
Lych studies the old woman with suspicion.
“Well met. However… I think I’ll stand, for now. Thank you.”
He steps closer. The lantern light barely reaches beneath his hood, catching only the lower half of his face. His lips are dry, pale. His features gaunt, starved of nutrition.
“I come from a land of ice and endless cold. A town damned beyond redemption.”
His voice is steady, but hollow.
“My wife perished there. When she did, so too did any reason I had to remain. I left that place buried in my past.”
He pauses.
“I have travelled for months to reach this kingdom. It is said that what I seek lies here. Ancient magic. Lost magic.”
His gaze drifts to the floating candles.
“And judging by these… you may know something of it. Or at least know who I should speak to, if I wish to learn more.”
Insects crawl slowly across his chest. He does not react.
“I have been told you may know of the person I seek. If it is even a ‘person’ at all.”
He inclines his head slightly.
“If you possess the knowledge I am after, I will compensate you. Fairly. Respectfully.”
Lych reaches into his satchel and produces a mangy grey pouch. Stepping forward, he empties it onto the table before her.
Emeralds and diamonds spill out, catching the lantern light with a cold, hungry gleam...
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