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.”
"Well its not too interesting" you run your hands along your dress smoothing it out as you take a seat. "As a high elf I'm expected to be a certain way, to act a certain way. My mother instilled how to act like a lady, be kind, be pretty and be quiet" You adjust into your seat and take a look around, rubbing your nose as the smell of rotten wood and wet moss invades your nostrils. "I just had to get away from all of that, I want to be my own person, carve out my own path" You start playing with your hair, becoming a bit nervous "They don't know I have left and I'm not exactly sure where I am going, but I will be my own person and make my OWN choices"
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