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?))
The half-elf steps inside. His green gaze flits about the grungy tent before locking on the hag. A dark brow arches as the old woman speaks. He seems hesitant at first. His nose scrunches. His fingers curl and uncurl. After a moment or two of thinking, his lips spread into a half smile.
"Well, I don't usually go around telling my details, granny," he states, slumping down across from the hag, ",but I'll make an exception for a pretty face like yours." He leans back, the smirk never leaving his smug countenance as he continues, " An Oyashi man ended up visiting a small Yosei village and fell in love with a local woman. A few years passed and they had a little boy. They named him Turushno, meaning "one covered in dirt". Everything was fine for a while until Turushno's mother got restless. She ran away leaving the Oyashi man with his son. As the years went on the father and son did what they could to keep food in their bellies. " He pauses, lips tightening inward, "But winters got cold and the Oyashi man fed his son more than himself. He got weak...and tired. One day the Oyashi man fell asleep and didn't wake up, leaving Turushno alone to wander. And he wandered far. Very far." Seeming to catch himself the young man forces the smirk back upon his features, He outstretches his arms wide, "Now he's here." He ends his story with a bit of a chuckle, "Anything else you wanna know, Granny?"
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