wereyoi

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.”

((How do you respond?))

Arven paused, his eyes moving to the cushion, then back to the hag. Brow furrowing, he slowly let his pack onto the ground to take a seat across from the hag. His legs crossed underneath him as he leans forward. "This is...custom here?" His voice is kept low, as if any more volume may attract more of the gnats already buzzing around his head and in the tent.

"I assume you must be some sort of official..." His voice picks up a 'used to this' tone as he fishes out a number of flat stone coins, "I've been through this before, a handful of marks and I can be on my way?" His eyes turn up to meet the hag, seeing nothing approaching an expression of acknowledgement, he bit his lower lip and leaned back.

"You're being serious then? Well," Arven took a breath, a touch of a mistake given the smell. "I've been wandering since my da passed and my mother went not too long after. Farm workers you, see? We were Neervani, travelling workers. Had a carriage and everything, moving from manor to manor seeking employment to help in the fields. Well, I was never taught much else, so I continued with them and kept moving through lands. I've been seeking employment again, bribes and tips getting to my purse yet...farm work has lost its luster."

Arven's eyes glance up at them expectantly, a wicked smile on their lips. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be looking for a young strapping lad to perhaps work a guard shift or two? You know after my travels and seeing how much you can get off of bribes? I won't lie, maybe being a shiner isn't such a bad idea."

The silence deafened the room and Arven's smile lost some of its put-upon luster. "Well, if you're not a guard and not an employer, I don't have much of a clue who you actually are, but I'm more interested in finding what is out there. I have been kept as a travelling show for so long I'm not interested in telling more lies about it!"

The crone's eyes just stayed on Arven, he shifted. "Just, there- take from that what you want. Figure out what's true and what's not, but can you at least point me the way to the nearest town?"