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.”
Kladestien sets his pack down and sits quietly for a moment before speaking.
“My story’s not much of one,” he says with a faint smile. “I worked as a stonemason once — building homes, bridges, anything that could last. But my town fell to sickness, not fire or sword. When the work ended, I just… kept walking.”
He looks around the tent, his fingers tracing the scarred wood of the table.
“I’m looking for a place that still believes in building instead of breaking. Maybe here I can find work again — mend walls, carve stone, help people make something that lasts longer than the storms.”
He glances toward the tent flap, where faint light filters through the swamp mist.
“That’s all I want, really — a quiet place to start over.”
The hag studies him for a long time, then nods slowly.
“Perhaps you’ll find what you seek, mason. Perhaps you’ll build more than walls before your story ends.”
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