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?))
Kael hesitated at the entrance, the damp air clinging to his cloak as the flickering candlelight caught the edge of his hood. He studied the hag for a long moment before stepping inside, boots sinking slightly into the mud beneath the tent’s woven rugs. “You’ve been expecting me?” he said quietly, lowering himself onto the cushion with the cautious grace of someone who’d spent years in the wild. His hand hovered near his bow, more out of habit than threat. “I was raised in the border woods,” he continued, eyes flicking to the hovering candles. “My mentor taught me how to read the wind, how to move unseen, and how to survive when the world turns against you. But a few months ago, my village was left empty, no bodies, no tracks, just silence.” His voice hardened slightly. “I’ve followed signs ever since, strange prints, the smell of decay, whispers of magic gone wrong. Every path led here.” He met her gaze fully now, grey-green eyes sharp in the dim light. “So if you truly saw me coming, hag, then you know what waits in these swamps… and what took my home.”
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