Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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.”
Taken aback at the old hag seemingly appearing out of nowhere, Phillimon just barely was able to make out a few words. “How do you know who I am?”
“Don’t you worry about me,” The hag responded, “Go on, sit,” She gestured again to Phillemon.
Phimmemon was hesitant at first, but after a few heartbeats, he cautiously sat on the cushion. Phillemon could feel the softness, yet the roughness of the cushion. It was somewhat soothing to him.
The woman sat, waiting for Phillimon to talk. “Well? Go on..” she rasped, her voice rough with age. “Tell me your story,” She repeated from when Phillemon had first come in.
“Well..” Phillemon began. “As a young boy, I was forced to live out in the woods. To grow crops, tend to animals, and my siblings,” Phillemon paused for a moment, before continuing, now with more confidence, “I had a younger sister, Tara. She was the sweetest little thing..” Phillemon stopped again, sorrow creeping into his eyes, “Well, at least until that one fateful day... she got a terrible sickness that we couldn’t heal. She died so young, only 19 years old. Oh- how I miss her soft, cute face..”
“After she died life seemed harder.. It seemed as if life was..” Phillemon paused, thinking, then continued, “Slower... At the time I was 23. Once I reached 25, however, my parents forced me to live on my own, they were tired of caring for me. So I left. I went deeper into the forest. I settled down for a while, but it just didn’t seem like a life I should have. At thirty I decided to venture out into the wilderness, where anything could happen. Ever since I’d been looking for somewhere, anywhere, to live. Yet so far I’ve been unsuccessful. I’d thought that this place could finally be the place where I could start a family, and finally thrive, but, this place seems to be in shambles,” Phillemon paused once again, looking around, at the rips and tears in the tent.
Phillemon looked at the hag, waiting for her to say something. Then she spoke. “Hmm.. well, if you’re looking for somewhere you can stay, there is a place just west of here, other halflings just like you live there.”
Plillemon was a bit surprised, “There’s a place I can go? With other halflings? This is just wonderful! Thank you!” Phillemon dipped his head in thanks and stood up, and turned to leave the tent, but first he turned to the woman, “Farewell, thank you,” he said gratefully, before turning and leaving, heading west, like the old woman had suggested.
