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"
Elzwyn looks around the tent, mildy disgusted by the musty smell quickly filling his nostrils. He brushes off the uncomfortably damp cushion and sits. "Well, I have been traveling for quite some time. If memory recalls I have been traveling for no less than 35 moons," he takes a moment to pause contemplating his next word. He speaks again, "I was born in the State of Lurin, my parents died when I was very young, of what? I can't recall." "It was just my sister and I for a while, but she passed of flu near her 18th birthday. With little left, I must try to find my way to Haelun'or, I must return to where my parents came from so long ago." He stops for a moment, wondering if he should say the next sentence. "But I fear about my purity, I have read in many books of the strictness of the High Elves at Haelun'or, and I fear that they will not accept me. My parents had also hoped that I would get the opportunity to attend the Eternal College and I only hope that one day I can fulfill that." The old hag nods gently and Elzwyn abruptly opens the tent and exits into the cool misty air.
