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.”
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There was a deafening silence coming from the shepherd, her eyes stared deep in thought as she turned her head to the candles that glowed above. She was not quite certain why a stranger would take such an interest to her possible lamentations, but she may as well entertain her inquiries . . She goes to have a seat before she finally told her story.
" . . There truly isn't anything worth admiring or condemning me for. The bastard child of a peasant servant and a wedded samurai in Oyashima, that's what I am and what I have known long before I could even form words. I was nothing more than a burden on my father's shoulders; so I have been raised far from him while my mother continued to serve under him." A beat, though her expression remained unchanged despite revealing such personal details. What was there to flinch over when it is a truth she had long accepted? She continued on . .
"I could have been abandoned during the winter, that way my mother would not have to be burdened to with raising another mouth to feed . . But even with the grievances of her family and her masters, she still went her way to look after me. Was it pity, compassion . . or an act of cowardice that my grandparents claimed? I don't think I'll ever know . ." She spoke before clasping her hands together on her lap. ". . I was only a mere child when my mother passed away one night. My grandparents blamed me for her death; my father's lawful wife having poisoned her out of envy that was long building. Without her, I only became more of a burden upon my family, so I had been given off to a family in the countryside to be made farmer out of."
There was a moment of hesitation, a subtle twinge of discomfort in her eyes before she continued. " . . My elders were stern people. There was no time to dawdle in their fields, and I was given the task to be a shepherd while their children tended to the crops. In a strange way, I- . . Found a sense of purpose in looking after the flock; a sheep cannot accuse and it always follows without complaint." She rambled before glancing down to her hands.
" . . I was wedded off to a merchant when I was twenty-five; while my elders are at odds with them . . This one in particular held much wealth, but I held no fondness for him. He sings like that of a songbird, yet I can see so clearly that he was nothing more than a pig wearing golden robes . . But I was no sheep either. Before he could lay his hands on me on the day of our union, I took a knife to his shoulder and I ran as far as I can . . So now I am here. Finding someplace else to become a shepherd and nothing else." She spoke quietly with a sense of resolve before she asked the old woman back.
" . . Is that all you wanted to hear?"
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