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?))

There was a slight hesitation before she responded, with her pointed features sharpened like knives. Guarded with steeled defiance. "Well, if I must." The lady would unbuckle the straps of her breastplate. "Amongst the mali'aheral there was nary a better master of the Royal Stables then my father. He has taught me as his star rose to prominence in the garrisons and craftsmen of the capitol. Brought to many royal banquets and consorting with nobility at a young age, though a commoner our skills were valued. Our tenacity respected. Until..."

Pain twitched at the edge of her vision which caused those honed features to waver.

"One night, I heard a conversation at the dead of night. Young and curious I thought to listen. I knew not who had spoke, or of what. But I was caught and they fled. The next morning my father was bombarded with accusations that I was the result of a child with a human. A vile rumor that tarnished his legacy. His business disrespected. Trust broken. The spiral that it sent him in has always been a shade in the back of mind ever since. We lost everything... But with so much time to reclaim it yet."

Passion flaired in those pupils. "I seek now only to uphold the honor and dignity of my forebearers. To become a knight worthy of the Law, and to repair the disgrace heaped upon by name unjust. With my lance I seek to forge a new era of prosperity for elvenkind. Dutifully. With loyalty and respect for my betters."