TheBeeirdo

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?))

"Me?" He points to himself, taken by surprise while examining the interior "Ah, yes! Of course! It is... me." Puerir tried to smile politely, but it looked a little awkward and embarrassed.

 The elf sits on the cushion, his legs crossed as he starts talking "My story is not really anything… impressive, nor tragic or heroic.. But I guess I shouldn’t complain about the former, right ?” He smiles, more calm, still looking around with curiosity. 

"I’m from Vortice you know? My parents moved there sometime before I was born. Both worked in the public library, so I spent a great part of my childhood between the books- One second.” Pue starts searching for something in his bag, looking a bit frustrated “Where it is… W-well, continuing, It was good! I devoured, not literally of course, book after book: Fiction, Roman- I mean adventure, real history… So I decided to write my own books.”

 He finds a really used notebook, filled with notes between the pages. Pue smiles like he achieved something fantastic “Aha! Here it is! Uh- where was I? Ah! Of course.” The elf let the book close to his side, finally looking at the old woman. “Keep in mind that… I started when I was nine to ten so… it wasn’t anything really great. I would walk to the port or the bazaar, asking and collecting stories from around the world for my little collection… All of this inspired me a lot, you know ? I started wishing to partake in these adventures and tales, explore the world and document everything on my own! So, I started preparing myself for this journey three years ago. And now that i’m 18 years…”

 He picks behind his head a white quill, picking from a side tiny bag what remembered an ink pot “Well,I’m here now! Doing my journey!” He chuckles a little” But now..” The elf opens his book to a blank page, quill in hands and an expectant look in his face. “Would you mind if I asked about your story ?”