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?))
Example:
The young elven woman would sit across the old hag with a polite smile on her face, "Thank you for your hospitality madam." She would fold her hands in her lap as she lightly cleared her throat, "My name is Vivian Sanguin, I am the daughter of Killian and Seravia Sanguin." She would look at her hand for a moment and lightly blink, "I'm sure you can tell than I am a daughter of dark elves. My family was blessed to have two children, me being the second. We had a small farm outside of Amaethea, where we would trade our crops for materials and food we needed." Vivian would take a moment before continuing, letting a small sigh out. "A few weeks back our home was attacked by human raiders. After they took what they wanted they burned it to the ground. I was lucky to survive, however my parents and dear brother were not." Telling this clearly seemed hard for her as she tried to blink away her tears. She cleared her throat again, "I apologize I don't mean to cry," she would quickly wipe under her eyes and continue, "I'm traveling around, trying to find other dark elves like myself... In hopes to rebuild my life and possibly find or create a new family."
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