Avril has just arrived in 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 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 Avril'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?)) Avril inhales sharply, alluding to her hesitance. "Well, if you insist..." Her voice echoes with a melodic lilt as she sits down.
"I hail from a land that very few in this one have likely heard much tell of. A large city, Mihyaar 'twas called, on the coast of a big river. Not the nicest town, it was, but nonetheless, 'tis where I was raised."
"I sprouted amongst the streetfolk, amidst the din o' the traders and the salespersons. Gave me some spine, If I do say so meself. Me da' was the greatest sailor the city 'ad ever seen, 'e was, and me ma'... well, not the lovin' type was she, but a fine 'ealer she was nonetheless. Tried to teach me all she knew, she did, but I ne'er did listen."
"All me life did I 'ear tell o' the lands across the sea, o' their glory n' wonder, and with me da's tells o' adventure, me ma' was less than surprised when I told 'er I wanted a life o' adventure."
"She wa'n't 'appy, but she knew deep down in where'er 'er 'eart shoulda been tha' there was no turnin' me back. She bid be farehwell, and I ne'er saw her again."
"Me cousin Fern took me on 'is next journey, off ta' the big wide world. 'Twas the 'appiest day of me life, leavin' dock. But 'twas not to be. Not a week in, and we were boarded by the fiercest pirates I e'er did see. I've been around, old 'ag, and I tell you ne'er had I seen such... evil... in those eyes... they killed me cousin and 'is wife, but left me be. I'll ne'er understand. But their leader, their cap'n, she looked at me, and I'll ne'er forget it, she looked at me with that glint in 'er eye and said, "'ope you've got some sea legs." They left me on that boat, alone, with a torn and leanin' sail."
"It took me tree months to make it to shore. Roughest tree months of me life. Almost ran out'ta clean water, I did, but I made it. Just under a year ago, that was. Spent the last year wanderin', tryna make a name for meself with what little I remember o' me ma's 'ealin' lessons and odd jobs."
"And now, here I am, in this dreary town, seekin' what the good Lor' has in store for me next. So tell me, old 'ag, what do you see in me future?"
