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?))
Edric stepped into the dim tent, the scent of wet moss and melted wax thick in the air. When the old woman spoke, his shoulders tensed slightly beneath her gaze, but he did not turn away.
At her gesture, he sat upon the cushion, resting his hands together.
“I came because the road led me here,” he replied calmly. “I have wandered for some time, working where I am able and leaving before my presence causes unease.”
He paused, then continued, acknowledging her stare.
“The curse was never meant for me. It changed only my appearance, yet it has followed me farther than any place I have called home.”
Edric lifted his eyes to meet hers.
“If you were expecting me,” he said quietly, “then perhaps you already know I seek neither trouble nor fortune—only a place where I might stay without being driven onward.”
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