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.”
The woman's eyes looked toward the old hag as she sat with a straightened posture. Her hands rested lightly on her needs as her lips curled into a faint smile.
"My story?" she repeated, leaning back with a hum. "Well . . . I was born into a lineage of knights, a name that, in my region, commanded respect. As one of the few daughters, I was not afford the luxury of mediocrity. I had to make myself stand out..."
Her lips flattened, reflecting on the past. "I served well, stood above my brothers yet they still held their doubts, but... that story is for a different day."
