JeanyBoo

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?)) Angiel seemed to be taken aback from the stranger’s suddenness, but felt strangely safe.. so she sat down. She fidgeted for a moment before taking a deep breath, “-My parents were both from different worlds and cultures. My father was an adventurer and a wanderer who found her mother in a small village during his travels. Unfortunately, he was never able to make a real home with her and they parted ways shortly after my birth. As a result, I was raised almost entirely by my father and grew up with a strong sense of independence. My father taught me how to survive in the wild, the value of hard work, and to never give up on my dreams. When I was a young girl, I found a mysterious artifact deep in the forest. I kept it with me ever since, but never told anyone about it. It was my most prized possession and I kept it a secret out of fear of being ridiculed. I didn’t know that the artifact was a powerful magical object that was sought after by powerful forces. As I grew older, I became closer to a friend who had been in my life since her mother left. I found solace in my friend's presence, and we formed a strong bond. But one day, my friend suddenly disappeared without a trace. To this day, I still don’t know why my friend left or what happened to them. The only clue was a small golden key found on his dresser with her name on it. I wear it around my neck, on a necklace, hoping one day it'll aid in finding him.”

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?)) She felt her fists clench as the mysterious figure studied her, quite caught off guard by her gaze. "W-Well, I suppose I could.." The air grew heavy as she paused, anxious. "I grew up in a small unknown town, not many creatures or other people. I could see that there was a greater world out there.. but my mother would not let me see it. It wasn't until my 17th birthday that I finally left town, sick and tired of being stuck there. I ran. I've been alone ever since. I survive on stealing food and hunting down meals. I just hope one day I'll actually be able to see the world in a way of importance."