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?))
"Expecting me?" Solenne questions gently, minding her voice in the presence of an elder. Her voice cuts through the humid air, warm and low. She takes a look at the pillow, before raising her right hand to position the hilt of her sword out of her way as she sits, her maille rustling against the plates of her armor. "You want... my story?" She asks tentatively, considering a question that has never been posed to her. "It's not much. My father, a blacksmith, taught me his craft- discipline and honesty. My mother was a diplomat for a small trader's council. While she was with us, she taught me that the point is not to throw the final blow, but to ensure the first is never thrown." Solenne speaks smoothly and calmly, steely gray eyes watching the hag's movement. "I try my best to uphold what they instilled in me. I suppose I haven't much experience past a few towns- I only just set out a couple years ago." She waits for the response now, sitting tall as the candle smoke curls around the tent poles.
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