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?))
Ewol steps inside, letting the tent flap fall behind her. She eyes the floating candles, the old hag, the cushion. Her expression stays unreadable.
(Quietly)
“People only say they’re expecting me when they want something.”
She sits, slow and graceful, one hand resting near her dagger. Her voice is calm, steady.
“I was born in the dark, raised to kill without question. I walked away when I learned to question everything.”
A pause. Her eyes narrow slightly.
“You want a story. I want a reason. So—what is it you saw in me?”
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