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.”
He sits down, eyeing the woman's aura. He had spent the whole long day at the marshes looking for berries and flowers to sell to the local vendors, thus he was practically half asleep already. "Huh... Ah, yes! Yea, yea I come from Kurjessare." he answers. "You probably haven't heard of it... A small village up northwest, off the shore of Aevos. It's a town mainly inhabited by humans. I spent my youth there, fishin', studyin' the bow, et cetera, et cetera." he continued, his mind still dwelling on the long road that led here. "The situation up there's... uh... rough, if I dare say. I left the town a year ago, been on the road since that." The old hag keeps nodding, raising her eyebrow. "Well if you insist, I can tell you more of the situation up north." He flips his hair out of his eyes and explains: "In the deep cold of 236 S.A war broke out in Kurjessare, when ruthless seafaring barbarians came to subjugate our local lord mayor. I left the island on my father's dinghy. Took the road south towards the vale of Nevaehlen; the city of my kindred. And now I'm here."
He thought to himself: "Could this truly be the right place that my father told me about?" After looking around, he finally dared to introduce himself: "The name's Hileiacaln Kaj'andr. Though my friends have called me just Hilei. A few family friends have lived in this town, so i stopped here on the way south. You might know by father, Aher'khel. He sent me here. I have a message for you, but only in return of that fine horse of yours'." After a few minutes of awkward silence spent staring eachother the young wood elf takes off his backpack and starts rummaging through it. "Here it is!" He surprises the seer with the joyful tone. It seems there's a yellowed scroll there. Hilei passes it to the hag with care. A seal depicting an oak tree is holding the scroll closed. "Our family seal," Hilei explains, seeing as the crone takes a good while looking at the seal.
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