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.”
((How do you respond?))
Ayleth sat down on the cushion before her, crossing her legs. Her movements were swift and elegant. Ayleth's green eyes found the elder's brown eyes and she started speaking.
"Well, you see, I was abandoned as an infant. My mother and father were killed. No one knows how, their bodies were never found. I turned to the forest to raise me; eating fruits off trees; sleeping in caves and low holes in the ground; living off dirty lake water until I learned to boil it." Ayleth paused, as if giving room for effect and to take a breath. "Then, one day I ran into the group of elves that my mother was born into. They told me story after story about her, I am still in awe of her. I met a blacksmith, Covelt, who taught me the way of the bow and arrow. Covelt taught me everything, from survival to civil life." She smiled to herself, pausing once again. "I decided to leave my family and travel to find my purpose in life and maybe help others do the same." Ayleth spoke proudly, her hands in fists on top of both her knees. She lifted Her head and looked directly into the Elder's eyes, waiting for a response.
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