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.”
"Not many people expect someone like me. I'm just a mere sword for hire." **Sif sat down on the floor. She would observe the old hag, seeing what does she is expecting from her. Sif kept herself distant from her, eyeing down the old hag.** "I come from Norland. Raised up as a child soldier. Not much to say, as I mentioned before. All I ever knew was a blade in my hand." **The great-sword that she carried on her back told stories of gore. Indeed, a dangerous weapon.** "For what brings me here is that I am tired from a long day of walking.. Places like these are dangerous, however it's better this than to die within the forest." **She was aware that towns like these are full of thieves and murderers, but with a woke mind and a sword.. Sifs worries would dampen. What hasn't changed was her interest of the old hag.** "Now.."
**Sifs brows furrowed. A sense of urgency arose from her. what does this lady mean she's been expecting me? Many thoughts rushed through her head. Perhaps a son that she killed or a brother. Nonetheless, she wants to pry answers from the old hag.** "What do you mean, you've been expecting me?"
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