Vyliena

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.”

With a handkerchief pressed to rouge painted lips, Erzsébet let her dark gaze wander the tent of candle smoke tendrils and eventually looked to the old haggard woman. Softly clearing her throat, the cloth was lowered from her mouth as a subtle smile tilted her lips upward, veiling her discomfort. "My story, mistress? Oh, but that is quite the uninteresting tale," she said with an airy chuckle while lowering herself neatly on the gestured cushion. "Though I suppose I could share a brief summary." Under thick eyelashes, her gaze settled evenly on the tent dweller's face as she began her most simple story. Whether it was truth or not was certainly hard to discern. Erzsébet was born of goodly parents, Carolina Lovina Báthory van der Vervoren and Adrianus Lienden van der Vervoren. They cared well for their family and while they did not live in abundance, they were not often short on necessities. Adrianus was a merchant and Carolina a seamstress. Both of fair rapport. They took care of their daughter well enough and assisted her as needed, and still do so.