vampyv

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?))
"I offer you my greetings, Old Mother." Her voice was raspy yet firm, as she leaned in closer to the candle light, her eyes reflecting off of them  like an animal's, reflective and unreadable. "I am not one to speak of tales an old, yet for you, Kind Mother, I am willing to do so.." She rests herself down onto the cushion, her posture relaxed, her eyes steady on the woman before her, lips parting as she began to tell her story.

"I come, from a small line of travelers, pilgrims Old Mother. We set out into the deep woods, nature a better home than the chaos of civilization. We, or better my ancestors were in search of a flame said to bear the strength of giants, and purity of a dragon's breath." She trailed her fingers through the mud, dirtying her already muddied hands as she spoke. "I, being the sole Pilgrim of my ancestors journey, have decided to halt our journey. For our flock will end with my line alone. Would you be as kind, Old Mother, to as to point me towards life?, people?, so that this lone Pilgrim may rebuild her Flock?, and honor my ancestors wishes."