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?))
Example:
“Expected!?” Zerath scoffs, his posture is precise, controlled, military-trained. “I am Zerath Velukar, born among the Ramasarian Dark Elves,” he begins, voice steady and deliberate. “From a young age, I was taught the weight of loyalty, to one’s ancestors, to one’s people. My lineage is Vel’obv: keepers of water, traders of skill, preservers of memory.”
He shifts, eyes narrowing as if weighing every shadow in the tent. “I was once a soldier in the Empire of Man, tasked with commands I found neither moral nor strategically sound. I refused them… and for that, I was cast out. Exile taught me much. I have traveled widely, among scattered Dark Elf settlements, High Elf enclaves, and human cities, studying cultures, observing power, learning how fractured peoples might one day be united.”
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips, subtle. “I come now seeking knowledge, guidance… and perhaps preparation. The threads of the world are tangled, and I intend to understand them. You, I suspect, know why I have arrived here.”
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