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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?)) I freeze momentarily, grasping the situation. I hesitate for a second, but I quickly sit down on the dirty cushion. I say, "Oh.. well.. before I explain anything to you.. how do you know who I am? I don't think we've met before.."

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?)) "I am Ser Rodrigo Leomonte of the Red Hills, the last living Leomonte." I Proudly State, "I am Looking for someone, or I shall rather say, looking for a trace of someone."

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?)) My eyes glance around the room, looking over the knick-knacks and trinkets strewn about, attempting to get a sense of what to expect. My eyes finally fall on the old hags face, as I attempt to search for any signs of malicious intent. I take a step forward cautiously, prepared to take action should I need to. Removing my bow and quiver, I reluctantly sit down on the cushion and face the hag. "Why do you ask?" I reply, my eyes narrowing slightly. "My story is my own, and not one I offer up freely." A Huntress never reveals even the most customary information, not without knowing the intentions of those who ask. Especially those who have been awaiting her arrival. We stare at one another silently, and I can't help but be transfixed by the otherworldly and wise aura that envelopes the old hag. A strong feeling of safety settles over me and I feel compelled to share about myself. With a sigh, my shoulders relax and I begin. "I've been a true daughter of the woods since I was 16, now. Elvenesse has become distant from the old ways of the Wild Faith, too distant." My voice is filled with disapproval as look over the hags shoulders, deep in thought. "I was called by the forest to seek out an old druid, to teach me the ways of the Huntress. I spent 5 whole years training each day." A smile touched my lips as I recalled the grueling trials and tribulations. "I become a formidable student, mastering the bow, honoring and uncovering the secrets of the flora and fauna that surrounded me. I learned alchemy and herbalism, how to live off the land, and become one with the heartbeat of the earth, until finally I was read. Ready for the Trials of the Wild Hunt." A crackling candle stirred me from my reverie and my gazed returned to the old hags, as I sighed deeply. "Anyway," I shrugged. "That is a tale for another time. Outgrowing my master, I set off to forge my own path, and place in the world. I must admit, something has pointed me in your direction, so tell me, old hag, what part do you have to play in the next step of my self discovery?" I leaned forward on the table, in an attempt to command her to provide me with the next piece of the puzzle.

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.” Anise sits down, overwhelmed by the smells that her eleven nose picks up. The woman looks kind, and she feel a sense of comfort and trust. Sighing, Anise begin to speak... "When i was 16, I fell in love with a dwarf...my family decided to send me off to learn the ways of the forest druids, despite my eleven background. For years I've traveled and befriended creatures of all kinds. Unfortunately, my love for ...mischief has landed me in quite some trouble with some of the more...angelic races. I've been on the run ever since." Anise pauses, and shudders at the thought. "I haven't even been able to sleep, all I can see are endless images. All I want is to find somewhere welcoming and friendly, where I can settle down. A community for all races to be happy. I can't sleep anymore, so I just meditate four hours a day or I explore in the dark since I'm more of a...night owl." The old woman smiles kindly in understanding, nodding her head. White strands of hair blow gently in the wind. Anise longs to weave flowers of all kinds into the woman's strangely elegant attire. "I hope this is a place where I can finally rest, and build a home. I'm pleased to meet you, and hope to meet the others soon." Anise grips the torn edges of her cloak in nervousness, and awaits a response from the woman. The woman studies her, and in the long silence, Anise begins to fidget. "Well, my dear..." the woman begins.