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?))
Levint looks her in the eyes, examining her for a moment before giving a warm smirk and replying, "I don't know why you've been expecting me, but I guess I'll see where this goes." He sits down on the less than comfortable cushion, the candles hanging in the air as if to signify suspense. He says to the old woman, "You have a question for me and I have a question for you, so who's starting first?"
The dusty old hag stays silent, making the dampness of the environment, and their conversation, all more apparent. "I guess I'm going first, then," Levint says whilst crossing his legs. "So you want to know my story?"
"Well, I'll begin when I was just a small boy, my parents and clansmen trying to teach me sword play and martial arts, the latter of which I actually enjoyed. I didn't know what to do after my childhood, so I traveled, and traveled for the last 5 years. It's been a fun time, truly, but I can't seem to find a purpose. So here I am, a traveler, a lonely wanderer if you will, merely looking for a purpose."
He gestures towards the woman, resting his head on his fist and tilting his head as if in confusion, "Now it's my turn to ask the question, who are you?"
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