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?))
The towering woman looks down at the haggard woman. With a nod Morn agrees, quickly folding her legs beneath her and hitting the ground cross-legged. The pale eyes of the beast glance up towards the top of the ceiling. How to begin? " I am a traveler; I hail from a distant clan whom I have no true formal ties with...mah...my family. A strong 'n fierce bunch they are, fought mann'a battles n' other such things. I was raised traveling frum place to place. Got tah' meet plenty a people, though nun stuck out except fer this boy....he had bright blon' 'air and had this lil... " The orcish woman takes her hand behind her back and pulls out a lute. " He had sumthin' like this...but smallah and withouthis stock thing..."
Morn took a moment, looking down at the instrument in her hands, running her thumb over the strings, marinating in the barely audible coords it cooed. " That boy inspired me. I wanted to learn music. I wanted tah spread it's beautiful sound around to everyone. I wanted...to write and tah sing. I told me pops about it- He didn't much approve, considerin' what me clan was known fer. " The woman put the instrument onto her back once more before spreading her arms wide enough to almost push at the tent's walls. " So I said screw em! N' went out on mah own! Nowsadays I just spend time roamin...tryna get a little coin. Anythin' to survive. I'd love to become a real bard y'know? I could help people with me magic songs. I just want tah help others in a way I never was. "
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