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.”
"my story, nothing exciting. i simply travel to learn more of the other villages, their tales and folklore." he says with a soft polite smile, hesitantly sitting upon the cushion. he had not told anyone where he planned to travel, he himself didn't have a plan besides where the wind took him. He was from a smaller village and hardly knew anyone outside of it, how this old woman knew him was worrying. he carefully surveys the tent, checking for any other exits and the strange decor placed around, making it seem like a darker fortune tellers tent at a summer fare.
the old woman disturbed him, some sense of unease and a slight pinch at the back of his mind, like a warning from something quiet even within its home. he'd experienced this before while around animals and trees, small warnings of a cliff ahead or the people venturing too close to the village. yet he's never had them this muffled, it was as if something was supressing it, a strong cage over the voice yet it somehow still came through.
He wondered what this old hag was, there was no way she was fully human despite her appearance and gentle facade. he needed to be careful and leave as soon as possible.
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