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.”
Crezby blinks a few times, eyes adjusting to the dim space. She peers at the hag with skepticism, but settles into the cushion.
"Ug," she offers in greeting, albeit awkwardly. "My story - it's not very long. I've not been off on my own much before. I'm here now in search of my father."
"Ah... your father, you say?" The old woman wrings her hands. "May I ask what separated you?"
Crezby raises her brows. She pauses, debating whether this is the right place - but few have expressed interest so directly.
"Yub," she concedes. "He left my mother several years back. She... she appears to have lost her mind."
The hag quirks her wiry brows with an inaudible inquiry.
Crezby holds her gaze. "She fell in love with a fish."
There is an uncomfortably long pause.
"I see," says the hag. She does not look fazed.
Crezby shrugs. "Apart from that, I suppose I've lived the life of any other goblin - whatever that means."
The old woman's face contorts in a gummy smile. "Well," she says, "it seems you have the whole world ahead of you."
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