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?))
Kade Holloway steps into the tattered tent, his boots sinking into the damp earth beneath him as he pushes aside the ragged flap. His sharp, brown eyes scan the floating candles, their dim light flickering against the misty gloom. The old hag's words cut through the thick air, and he pauses at the entrance, his jaw clenched.
He meets her gaze, the lines on his face evidence of a life lived harder than most. His body tells a similar story: scarred, weathered, and beaten down, but not broken. As she gestures to the cushion, Kade doesn’t immediately sit. Instead, he stands tall for a moment, arms crossed, his presence both defiant and wary.
"Expecting me, huh?" he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to her, before finally stepping forward and lowering himself onto the cushion.
For a long moment, Kade remains silent, his gaze wandering to the suspended candles, each flame dancing like distant stars against the inky backdrop of his past. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and gruff, as though each word has to fight its way free.
"They call me Kade Holloway," he begins, his tone carrying the weight of a thousand untold stories. "I come from a place you wouldn't know. Not from here, not from anywhere people talk about. My people… they call us Farfolk. Outcasts, strangers in a world that ain't ever truly ours."
He pauses, shifting on the cushion as if the weight of his words presses down on him. "I ain't never fit in, not with the Heartlanders, not with the Highlanders, hell… not even with my own people. Always been too rough around the edges, too rebellious for their liking. Couldn't just sit back and take orders like the rest."
Kade’s eyes flicker to the hag, searching her face, but he finds no judgment there—just patience.
"They cast me out," he continues, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Said I was too dangerous, too unpredictable. But I didn’t care. Figured I'd be better off on my own, anyway. Turns out, being alone in this world ain’t as easy as it seems." He smirks, though there’s no humor in it.
"But through it all," Kade’s voice softens, and he leans back, eyes distant. "There’s always been one constant. The moon. I don’t know why, but when I look at it… when it’s hanging in the sky, cold and distant, I feel something. Like it’s the only thing that understands me. Like it’s watching over me."
His hand absently moves to a pendant hanging from his neck, a simple silver crescent moon. "It gives me hope, in a way nothing else does. Maybe it's because the moon don’t belong to any one place—it’s there for everyone, but it’s just out of reach. Like me."
Kade's eyes harden again as he leans forward, lowering his voice. "But I ain’t just wandering aimlessly. I’ve got a purpose now, a goal. There are people in this world who think they can decide the fate of men like me. People who think they can control everything, from the dirt beneath their feet to the stars above. I’ve seen them, and I’ve learned things they don’t want anyone to know."
He looks the old hag square in the eye, his expression grim. "I’ve got a secret agenda. One that’ll shake their world if I play my cards right. And I ain’t gonna stop until I see it through. The moon gives me hope, but it also gives me resolve. I’ll tear down their walls and expose their lies—one way or another."
The air in the tent feels heavier, charged with Kade’s intensity. His hand grips the pendant tightly, his knuckles white. "So, yeah… that’s why I’m here. You said you’ve been expecting me. If that’s true, then you know what I need. So what do you have to offer me, hag?"
The challenge in his voice hangs in the air, daring her to answer.
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