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.”
((How do you respond?))
Calebor hesitates in the doorway, rain dripping from the edge of their hood. “…My story?” he murmurs, voice roughened by travel. “It’s not much of one, not yet. Three nights ago, I followed the trail of a dying star. It fell beyond the marshes, somewhere near this place. The creatures out there…” He glances toward the tent flap, where the wind moans like something alive. “They’ve been restless since it landed. I figured someone here might know why.”
His hand drifts to a pendant around their neck, a faint pulse of light flickering within it. “You said you were expecting me. Then you already know it’s not the star I’m after, but what came with it.” She looks up and her gaze catches his eyes, she smirks "but what if the treasure you seek brings misfortune?"
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