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?)) (sorry if i messed this up)
(me i be your pardon ma'am how is it you know me" wind blows hard stinging ventus's skin (hag)come closer boy dont fear me i could do no harm to you"... "come tell me your story" (me)" well.. if you insist i may find answers here after all im the final survivor of a lost clan of dark elves, my people dwelled into magic they never should have touch and it drove them mad killing each other, till it was just me a boy hiding from the chaos inside what i thought was a crate of some sort. but when everything cleared i noticed the space i was in wasnt a crate at all the magic my people so foolishly tried to control had hidden me from the chaos, confused as to why i journey in search of answers to find out what this magic is and why it chose me" the hag snikers at him (hag) "my boy come it is time we show you who you are" behind the hag shadowy figures appeared reaching out for young ventus and thoe theyre mouths dont move he hears the words (shadows) "come"...
