ARCANECURIO

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?)) Finnea's reason for being here in the first place seemed to escape her- along with every other sense of reason in her mind. She sat alongside the older woman, examining her features much like her own just had been. Beauty in age... An inescapably pure form of elegance. As her eyes trailed each pockmark, nook, and cranny of the woman's face, she spoke as directed. "I am uncertain there is much to tell, madame." The words seemed to spill out. "My youth was hardly one of adventure and intrigue." A faint laugh leaves Finnea, as she considers her years spent in study of the stars; primarily Kain. So much time, and yet she felt she had barely scratched the surface of what could be known. "As I've aged, though..." Her eyes divert to wander the tent more, examining the holes in the rotting fabric. "I've come to find adventure does not often come to us; we must find it." A smile crosses her lips, and she speaks some more to the woman. "Ah, but I am not here to avoid the subject, am I? I spent most of my first decade in study of the stars, which left me hardly any time to enjoy my youth. I do not mind it, however, it is the path I chose in this world... Or the path the stars have set out for me." She hums, delighted with her own answer. Finnea and the woman exchange a glance, as if they were encouraging the other to speak. Though Finnea loses this staring contest, and continues her jumbled recitation of her life. "I never really knew my mother. Lovely as a woman as she was, she was always... Occupied, mentally. Perhaps being closer to her is why I seek to learn what she learned, but that's a question for another time. I like to believe I am my father's pride and joy- he hardly lets me think otherwise, always supporting my goals beyond what even is possible." "My recent years have been spent much the same as my early ones, though I suppose with a bit more freedom on when and where I may turn to look at what else interests me."