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 high elf steps into the tent with an air of quiet confidence, though the dampness of the swamp still makes him wrinkle his nose. He eyes the candles suspiciously as they float in the air, then fixes his gaze on the hag, a bit too blunt in his manner.
"I didn’t plan on coming here, to be honest," he says, brushing some damp strands of black hair from his face. "But the road’s been long, and I’ve lost my way... . The elf's gaze drifts away from the Hag, a question nagging at him. “What’s your interest in me? You said you were expecting me—don’t tell me you’ve got some sort of... vision?"
He lowers himself onto the cushion, not bothering to adjust his posture. "As for the story..." He still can't place his gaze upon her, his eyes first darting to the left as he thinks to lie, before deciding to tell her the truth. "I was born to a family of high elves distanced from Haelun'or. They sought a quiet life in the countryside, but it is not something I seek. I seek adventure, plunder, loot, and all things of that nature! I can not simply waste away in that place."
