Sabamonster

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?)) Scrutinizing violet eyes shift imperceptibly across the shadowed woman at the rear of the tent in equal parts apprehension and curiosity. Taking a few moments to patiently gather his thoughts Celendir finally rises to his full height before allowing the flap of the tent to fully close behind him with a drop of his arm. "It sounds as if you already know my story." He pauses, fighting the urge within the pit of his stomach telling him to refrain from engaging with the crone. "What manner of meeting is this?" Celendir's violet eyes narrow slightly. "We both know this isn't happenstance... but I'll indulge you for the sake of carrying on with this little..." He gestures lazily to the floating candles with a flick of the wrist. "Charade." There's a few more moments that pass before Celendir deigns to move, it's not clear if this is an act of 'defiance' for the sake of it, or if he simply can't be bothered. Nevertheless, he finally takes a seat on the implied cushion. Despite the fact he is sitting, the Elf's posture is very clearly practiced. He is upright, his shoulders are taught, and his chin is slightly elevated as if to look down the angle of his nose in projected superiority. With a deep inhale he begins, but not before once again offering a fleeting glance to the wizened woman in silent resignation. "My name is Celendir Ceru'maehr." The elf pulls his brow toward his nose in something akin to frustration as he continues. "And... while that name might not mean as much as it should, it will." With a sharp sniff his chin tilts upward again. "I was told... that my family originates from Haelun'or. I was also told that my family name was -important-" Celendir scoffs, shaking his head once. "So, you might be inclined to ask why I am travelling through this..." His eyes flick toward the opening of the tent in visibly restrained disgust. "Swamp." He offers disdainfully. "Well, I'll tell you. I was raised in lands not far outside of this place in some unnamed house, on some unnamed patch of grass. Which, if you are astute - also begs the question; if your family name is so important why then, is your family residing in some out of the way clearing in the middle of nowhere?" The elf grits his teeth before wringing his hands against his knees. "And you'd be right to ask." In an obvious attempt to regain his composure he sits straight again. "Firstly, my parents are liars." He says matter of factly. "From everything I've read, seen and managed to find on my own - our family name hasn't left the glade I was raised and later built my own home in, despite the fact my parents continuously told me otherwise. Which is precisely why I left. I made certain to find and tell my parents I no longer had any use for their deceptions before doing so also. Regardless, I collected as many things as I could carry and headed toward the city. I have set out to do what my parents would not, COULD not. -Make- our name mean something. The pursuit of which has led me here for the moment." Celendir stares blankly at the tent wall across from him. "My sister Seredin still believes the stories we were told as children and chose to remain behind." "I gave her my house" He shrugs gently. "It would appear it is much easier to fool someone than it is to convince them they have been fooled." Finally turning his attention to the crone again, one eye squints almost imperceptibly. "I for one will not be duped into wasting my life away on a small meaningless piece of property in ignorant bliss. I will return to the city, my children will be raised in the city, and we will make our contributions to our people. I spent most of my life studying, which is and will remain, helpful - what is not helpful however, is toiling over lands I care nothing about and I refuse to be part of it any longer." With a belabored sigh he folds his hands on his lap. "Now. Could we go on with what it is you -actually- want?" He tils his head and looks to the woman questioningly.