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?))
*Kuru peered down at the hag through his narrowed eyelids. He inched cautiously to her as he inspected the room, keeping the woman in his field of view. As he dawned at the cushion, he gently bent to a kneeling position. His hand never leaving the Nodachi he keeps sheathed in his kimono belt, he cleared his throat.* "I assume you know of me... But allow me to introduce myself. Kodama Kuru, an eastern Farfolk wandering Ronin." *He lightly bowed his head, then brought it back.* "My mother was a western Farfolk, which is where I retain my darker skin. Her and my father, the head of the Kodama family were very proficient in the art of the blade, and calligraphy. I was to hone my senses with the blade at a very young age, that was until both my parents passed from an illness. Leaving me with the solitude of carrying out the family name. Since then I have searched for a place to call my home while honing my skills on my journeys."
