fungifinn

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.” ((How do you respond?)) Zane looked around at the old worn houses of the small village, he hoped that somewhere amongst the weathered houses would either be an inn or a tavern of some kind so that he could rest. As he slowly walked around what he noticed to be the same weathered and worn house for the fourth time. Sighing at his own ignorance Zane turned a different corner and was met with the entrance of the old hags worn tent. Stepping inside he listened as he heard the old hag speak and slowly sat down in what he thought was a rather uncomfortable seat and nodded thankfully at the women. His gaze full of discomfort. "I do not think me story of origin is needed for this here interaction but if youd like to hear i shall tell" Zane straighted his posture as he began to speak. "I left my home village not to, long ago, ya see?" His expression turning to one of sorrow, "I snuck away from my father in the early night and chose to leave with a small group of travelers resting for the night..." Sighing as he watched the old hag's expression change as he spoke. "Soon i entered a kingdom not to far from my old home ya see." As Zane spoke more of his past he stopped slowly as he figured none of it truly interested the old hag. Instead of carrying on he nodded kindly at the women sitting in front of him and exited the tattered tents entrance before continuing on with his journey.

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.” ((How do you respond?)) Example: He looks down from the roof of the tent and squints as he sits down on the cushion "oh, hello ma'am, I wasn't aware anyone was here, my apologies. I was just..." he trails off as he looks at the women more intently and he raises his eyebrow confused "h-how do you know who I am!?" he stands up as a rush of urgency fills his body "Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until… ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ((Backstory)) (all places made up as I didn't know what to put) Born in the cozy village of Brookhollow, nestled on the banks of the Sylvan River, Vin Grasssky grew up in a home full of warmth and laughter. The Grassskys are a long-standing family of well-respected herbalists, known for their high-quality healing potions and remedies. However, their youngest child Vin wasn't as good as his descendants, but nonetheless he was the youngest of four siblings, and was always the most curious. His siblings were content to tend the herb garden, craft potions, and stay close to home, but Vin longed for adventure beyond the familiar hills and meadows of Brookhollow. From a young age, Vin showed a natural affinity for nature, often wandering the nearby forests, collecting wildflowers and herbs. He was particularly fascinated by the more mysterious and magical plants, those that whispered in the wind or had strange glowing properties at night. He had a knack for understanding their properties and often experimented, making little concoctions that occasionally got him into trouble (like the time he accidentally turned the neighbor’s chickens invisible for a week). As he neared his 19th birthday, Vin began hearing rumors of strange happenings in the world beyond Brookhollow. Tales of ancient forests filled with forgotten magic, towns struck by unexplained plagues, and cryptic visions of beings from the far corners of the world. The calls for adventure rang loud in his ears, and he could no longer ignore the pull of the unknown. Despite his family’s reluctance, Vin set off with a simple satchel of supplies, his trusty walking stick, and a small assortment of potions to begin his journey. His father, a wise but sentimental halfling, gave him a pendant that had been passed down through the generations — a reminder of his heritage and the strength of his family. Though Vin's skills with potions weren't the best in his village, he quickly learned that the world was far more dangerous than he had imagined. On his travels, he encountered beasts, bandits, and dark forces that tested his wits and bravery. He had to rely on his natural charm, cleverness, and knack for escaping tricky situations. Though he wasn’t much for fighting, he became an expert at finding peaceful resolutions, using his knowledge of plants and potions to heal the wounded or even calm enraged creatures.