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?))
"Well...I am adopted, was abandoned as a baby, then found and raised by a man named Eiran and and his brother. My father was a weapon smith, my uncle a baker. they taught me the skills of their craft, but i was never too good at smithing haha...but i loved baking. As i grew older it was clear i was different from them, my father looked like a typical human, so did my uncle, but I, I looked different." She touched the flowers just above her ears, taking a moment to breath
"My ears were pointed and my eyecolor was more than just an exagrated green. Not only that, but after i turned 16 my hair gained gray strands. Thats when i knew i wanted to learn of my heratige, who my real parents were and where i came from. Once i turned 18 i packed up, said goodbye to my loved ones and left. I have been traveling for a few months now, been to some villages, camped outside, met a fair share of creatures and monsters too." She chuckels lightly
"Thats my story so far..but a book takes time to write, and i dont think my story will come to the end any time soon."
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