Vdrestia

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.”

A Brief Encounter

Kaalia brushed aside the damp tent flap, her pouty lips pursing as a crinkle formed at her brow. With a little jump, her eyes leapt to fall upon the elder with a shallow moment of confusion before understanding settled upon her rather plain features. 

"Ah, I suppose you must be Lyra." A serpentine, saccharine grin spread across her softening visage, the smallest hint of a dimple deepening in her rose-tinged cheeks. For a tense moment, silence clung to the air around the two. With little hesitation, the spry woman strode to the floor cushion across from her in the cramped space. Folding one long leg over the other, she took a seat, grateful to give her road worn feet a moments reprieve. "My brother said you were in need of some rather specific assistance."

Lyra gave Kaalia a small nod of understanding, her wrinkled lips pursing together in brief thought. "I suppose. Such needs to come with a lack of aids and, well, very old age." She gave a small chuckle at that, settling one spotted hand over the other in a motion almost too refined for an elderly woman living within a tent. "Well then, you may begin."

"There's not much to say, really. I come from a home of moderate means, farmers, supplying the local town with meat and grain. My Father was a good man, though somewhat of a zealot, and my mother was a dutiful wife. They both bore calloused hands, and weathered hearts. My brother and I cared for each other in our youngest years, and aided in tending the animals with age." A distant look briefly flitted across her jewely eyes, the smallest hint of a grin showing and evaporating in the span of a blink. With a long, exasperated sigh, she seemed to shake the distant memory away, then turning back to Lyra. "Father grew old, mother grew ill, my brother and I grew up. He chose to stay behind with his young wife and their babe to care for the farm in our parent's stead. I chose to travel. So, here I am. Looking for work, far from desperate, only slightly hungry, and young enough to do what needs to be done. So, what would you have me do? Let us be done with this. There is famine to prosper from and no better time to make coin than during a proper siege."

The older woman gave a wise grin, but despite her many years, a wicked glint would light in her hooded eyes. "I agree. Enough small talk. Let us begin."