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, so the message from my father must've found you well then?" Enidd said more so to herself in reassurance, and grimaced at the state of the tent and its various worn-through holes.
"Yes... I can't quite say it was his finest penmanship." She said, disprovingly, as if she's trying to measure Enidd's integrity by the neatness of the letter.
"Surely one's calligraphy skills, mustn't define the abilities of one's daughter, especially wilst under a rai-"
"For your sake, I hope not. Even under such conditions, one must not discard proper etiquette!" The hag said so matter-of-factly.
"This is silly! We're not even of nobility, and what does any of that have to do with being a barmaid!!!" I practically exclaim. Standing up from the worn crate, Enidd prepared to take her leave.
"Wait right there Enidd... Your father wrote many a thing about you, timid being the most expressed. Though I don't see that person in front of me. I will take you and spare you the tedious journey back. I expect only great things from you and our work, there is much to be done."
Enidd didn't say a word, thoughts racing. Her eyes only able to stare blankly at the old woman, not being able to discern if she was freed from her fate or condemned to it.
