stxrmbreak

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?))

He would sit, his armour shifting on wide shoulders. Though tall, he would move gracefully, almost like a greyhound. Shuffling his travel bag in front of him, he would place his hands together in greeting.
"I apologise for the intrusion. I'm here, looking for a woman. About this tall." he'd say, gesturing at his chest. Though wild in appearance, he would sound almost educated and gentlemanly. Almost paradoxically so. "Red hair, green eyes. A rare beauty. Have you seen her? I fear her life may be in great danger..."

As the woman stared blankly, he would continue. "As for where I'm from. I was the son of a blacksmith. I didn't care much for it. Preferred being outside instead of learning. Father didn't like that, but it's not his problem. I'm my own man. Have been for years, now."