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?))
He gave the woman a questioning look.
“How could you know me? I know not of you.”
She simply cackled softly, her expression warming into a knowing smile. His guarded posture eased as he realized she must understand far more than she let on.
“My story is only at its beginning, yet it already feels near its end,” he said. “I wish to leave behind a legacy before my ventures conclude. I have braved mountains and crossed lakes. I have met many cheerful characters, ones I hope will remember my company when my path finally fades.”
He paused, reflecting on the faces of those he had once traveled beside. The woman studied him intently, her gaze piercing, as if she could see through flesh and bone alike.
“In truth,” he continued, “my journey has led me to people and places I once only dreamed of as an orphaned peasant. I am exhausted by all I have endured, yet my thoughts often return to my parents’ fate at the hands of an unruly pack of orcs. I am grateful for their sacrifice, for without it I would not stand here today.”
His voice faltered, but he pressed on.
“After their deaths, sadness became my constant companion. I scrounged for survival until the age of thirteen, fighting daily for food and shelter. One desperate night, driven by hunger, I stole a meal. I was caught and imprisoned for a year. From that day forward, I vowed never to steal again unless my life depended on it.”
“When I was released, I searched tirelessly for honest work. Fortune finally found me in a man named Gamstaed, who employed me as a delivery boy for his obscurities shop. His work kept me fed and healthy, but he passed shortly after my seventeenth birthday.”
The memory lingered heavily in the air.
“With his death, I felt there was nothing left for me in that melancholy place — a town where I had known only loss. I spent the remainder of my savings on travel supplies: armor, food, and most importantly, refurbishing the blade Gamstaed left me.”
He straightened slightly.
“Since then, I have fought enemies and found friends. I have hunted, slept in untamed lands, and endured more than I believed myself capable of. All of it has led me here, to your company, my friend.”
He fell silent. The hag nodded respectfully, offering no immediate reply. Yet it was clear she had known every word before he spoke it. At last, she said quietly:
“You have seen and done much, young one, but your journey is far from over. Companions are never as scarce as they seem. Remember that.”
As her final words faded, her form seemed to dissolve. He realized it was not magic at all, but exhaustion overtaking him. His eyes grew heavy, and he surrendered to a deep, dreamless sleep — carrying with him the understanding that his past had shaped him, but it would not define his end.
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