ToryIfrit

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?))
 

Amir stands there in the flickering candlelight. the various shadows cutting hard across his face while those fiery ember eyes dart around the tent. He doesn't sit on the cushion straight away; his eyes scan around the area as though he's debating whether this is another trap or a fated meeting. After a brief moment of silence, he lowers himself with one hand resting near his belt as if he's never truly unarmed. 

"My story?" he says, his voice low and calm but with a hint of weariness. "It's not the kind people tell to warm their hearts." Amir's posture became more relaxed as he began detailing his story, letting out a sombre smile. "Where I come from, there's nothing left but old ghosts and bittersweet memories. I ran away from it all. As I pass through various towns, I still see my old vengeful spirits from back then." Amir's gaze sharpens before taking a deep breath and staring the hag right into her beady black eyes. "But you already knew I'd come, didn't you? You knew the path would take me here. So let's skip all the boring talk on old wounds. I'm here because my past keeps dragging me forward, something I can't turn back from no matter how much I try. If you've been waiting for me, then you know what it is I'm chasing, and if you don't..." Amir reaches for something in his long coat. "Then perhaps neither of us will ever really know... and I'll keep walking until the thread finally snaps."