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?))
She would have looked at the woman hesitantly as she approached the cushion to sit down on. “It’s not very often someone expects someone like me to show up….. let alone ask my story….” She says pausing for a while thinking on where to start with her story. “In all honesty…. In the beginning I did have parents… as of now they are long dead… they were in-fact killed in-front of me when my town was being burnt to the ground…. So I ran when I was a kid only taking what I could get….” She says looking at her crimson dagger a bit before looking back at the old woman. “But as of now… now that I’ve grown up since then I’ve just been going town to town… doing bounties here and there to try to earn a living since I have no place to go back to and I haven’t found a place to stay permanently either…..” she adds on before crossing her arms and leaning back a bit getting a bit comfortable with talking since it’s not often people ask her. “There’s a lot id like to say about small things but it’s more of a personal matter… one I’d like to keep to myself…” she says as she tilts her head to one side.
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