TzunSki

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.” --------------- Achille furrows his brows while checking on the old woman, creeped out. After a long silence, he finally rests his face before taking a seat on the cushion. Opening his mouth, he said, "I don't know what you want to hear, ma'am; I don't even have a story to begin with. But if you're willing to hear a ramble from me, then fine." Achille takes a deep breath before exhaling sharply. "I'm from the north, and ever since I was a child, I've always been frail. I know I won't be able to achieve many feats with this crude body of mine, but I've decided to at least do something rather than sit in my bedroom all day." pausing to see if the old woman had grown bored, Achille continued, "My parents weren't supportive of me doing something so dangerous as this after I lost my arm and an eye to an illness, but... it's my life." finally stopping his ramble, Achille stood up from the cushion before taking a step outside.