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?)) Leona tenses up at the sight of the stranger, deciding not to sit her strong facial features beamed no end to the thought of the question, she spoke in a stoic voice "My lineage traces back to Aslan Goldherz The white lion of Oren, a paragon of valor and wisdom," Lady Leona begins, her voice carrying the weight of generations. "I was tasked by my father to search only for justice and I know the journey will be tough and i might still not have a 'story' of my own but, I will bring pride to my family ." The young woman stood there, staring at the hag with pride, her chest forward and her fists clenched. "I know my story will be made soon" a chuckle echoes "I am sure of it, and i will learn many great things from it." - "As if for now. . ." - "I have been traveling for long...perhaps too long and im heading to the Heartlander Confederation, do you know where that might be?"
