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.”
"Oh, hello ma'am," Skafronelynn, or Lynn, as she prefers to be called, says whilst taking a look around the tent, trying to spot something, she's not quite sure what it is she's looking for though. As Lynn turns back to the old woman she see a kind smile firmly planted on her face, waiting patiently for her to begin the tale, "Well, I guess I should begin at the beginning?" Was that the best way for her to phrase it? Probably not, but that was what she was going with.
Her smile grew almost impossibly long. Lynn returned it with a smaller one back before beginning where all good stories must start... In the Beginning.
"When I turned 18 my maturity slowed, as all Dwedmar do, but it was also the time for me to chose a Brathmordakin to worship and when the time came I chose the Hearth Mother, Anabella. As she is the mother of home and family I have set out into the Grand Kingdom to find the family that I seek."
The Hag looked Lynn up and down again, nodding before motioning me to move on.
