A young elf - Petra - has just arrived at a swampy, dim town. As she looks around, her gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. She ducks 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 Petra's face - "Ah, it's you. I've been expecting you. sit," she gestures at a cushion, "tell me your story."
((How do you respond?))
Cautiously, Petra approaches the cushion, keeping her gaze focused on the hag and sitting. Taking a deep breath, she steadies her nerves, reminding herself that if the Hag had any intent to cause her harm, then she would've done so already. "There isn't a lot for me to say that, I fear, wouldn't just bore you or ruin the mood you've got here."
She looks around, studying her surroundings and taking note of the candles before continuing, detailing her life.
"My name is Petra Amaeth. As you can no doubt tell, I am an elf - mixed heritage. My mother was a high elf, and my father a wood elf. When I was young," Petra studies the Hag's expression, still wary, "We tried moving to the realm of Oyashima - my father had wanted to visit it for a long time, and shortly after my birth, my parents decided to move to the city of Yamatai, in that realm. It's during the move, though, that we were attacked by a Yokai. My parents were killed, but I survived. I had no other family to go to, of course, so I have since taken care of myself. I have no intention of ever returning to that realm. That's all there is to say, unfortunately. Or all I care to tell you."
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