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?))
"Who are you to be asking me this? What did you mean you were expecting me?" I look around incredulously, as if I am seeking a crowd of onlookers to further prove my point. "Actually, it's not important, I will leave this town and soon forget about you. If it's a story you want, I'll be glad to indulge you."
I sit down, making myself comfortable. Leaning forward, resting my elbows on my legs, I continue, "I was raised and born in the Kingdom of the Elves, Marmali'nor, to a proud dark elf family, as you can see." Gesturing to myself with a small smile, "My childhood was harsh and intense, the perfect way to sculpt a powerful man that is capable of leading his family to greatness. I often trained with the sword at my father's behest, these trainings were punctuated by sparring matches among my siblings. If I lost... " I pause, looking past this old crone and into my memories, the candlelight causing shadows to dance across my already dark features, hiding my eyes from view. "Let's say I didn't lose often," pulling myself back to the present, " ...to the detriment of my siblings."
Pushing my perfectly coifed hair out of my face, I continue "You see... I was the best, because I had to be. Weakness was not tolerated in my family. We have a birthright to the world, it's up to us to take it. My father was like a general; clothes had to be perfectly pressed, we had to be excellent swordsman, intelligent scholars, even successful businessmen. Of course, one man couldn't do all of the above, but we could try. You see, the thing my father trained us for wasn't for my benefit or the family's, he trained us for two reasons. Perfection and power."
"Now, I am free from the oppressing reign of my parents, but I still am shackled to this expectation of perfection. I cannot shake it, no matter how hard I try!" I feel myself getting louder as emotion overtakes my senses. "I cannot let my father down! I may not be with them, but they are with me. Watching, observing, judging, every step of the way. Not to mention I'm also competing with my siblings. We all need to carve out our own mark on the world." I calm myself down for a moment, the silence in the air is tangible. I look at this hag and see her eyes are locked on me, her steady gaze unnerving me to no end.
"A-A-Anyways I have wasted too much time here. I need to leave." I pack up quickly and head out of the tent without even looking back. I can still feel her cold eyes drilling into me even as I walk away. I make a turn just to break the line of sight.
"Stupid! How could I let an old lady unnerve me. I did nothing wrong, so how was she able to make me feel as if I was on trial? Without even a word!" I think to myself, with each step growing more and more frustrated. "To think that I even considered that an old bag like her knew anything about the Spirits and how to call them. No matter, I will find another teacher. I will succeed. I must."
