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?))
*Yvaen takes a seat on the cushion, after taking a moment to look it over. His traveling cloak pulled tightly around him.* "Thank you for meeting with my, my lady. I know it was a strange request... especially from an Elf so far from home. As you know, my family has fallen under a curse. I seek to discovered the source of this curse, break it, and set my family free." *He shifts uncomfortably* "Though, I worry by the time I discover some truth behind the curse, they may be eternally consumed by it. And I will be the last of the Sindaris Line." *His face steels with a determined look* "But I shall not give up. I care not if I must travel across the land ten times over. Until I know they are fully lost to the Curse, I shall not forsake them..."
Recommended Comments