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?)) Example: Ruaidhri nervously looks the hag up and down "I've come in search of my birth parents." He tells the hag reluctantly "I was abandoned on the doorstep to a wood-elf mother. However growing up there was an obvious difference between me and the other elven children of the village I grew up in." His eyes wander to the damp floor, playing with the ring he wears that was left with him on his mothers doorstep. "I'm as pale as a high-elf, although I lack the etiquette, yet not as short as a wood-elf, although I am prone to nature magicks. I am something of a mixed breed if you will..." His voice trembles with an anxiousness, almost as though he is relieving himself of a great weight. "You want to know my story, yet is has yet to begin. I was taught elven magick by my adopted mother, and grew rather quickly. By the time I thought of who I was..." He pauses ever so slightly "I knew there was a difference between me and her, that is when I asked her. I love my mother dearly, but something in my blood yearns for the questions I could ask my birth-parents...if they're even alive that is." Ruaidhri would continue to tell the hag of his minute childhood, from making flowers bloom, to cultivating a rare flower as apart of his training. His childhood was filled with magick, but apart of him knew there was more waiting for him. And so with tearful goodbyes and supplies from his adopted-mother, he set out on his journey of a lifetime!
