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?))
Eyeing the hag, he takes a moment to think.
"My story is yet to begin, I would imagine. Here is the prologue."
Vesthoth takes a seat, his posture poised though humble.
"I'm a craftsman, you see. I primarily deal in detail work, clockmaking being my main trade, although I have some other skills."
He bares a small watch, details resembling those of his tattoos, and inspects it.
"I apprenticed the man who adopted me, learning his skill, though he died of old age before I could learn everything. I supposed I'd take over the shop."
He puts away the watch and pushes his hair out of his face
"But a traveler from lands far displayed skills I had never dreamed of. Things I could almost consider magical. So it then occurred to me..."
Vesthoth gestures with his hands as he speaks, enthused but subdued in aura. A light smirk shows.
"Why stay cooped up in my childhood home, if there are such wonders across the world? I'll have limitless inspiration for my work."
He clenches his fists.
"Everything I once thought was the world became dull and worn. So I thought to myself, I'll be damned if I, as an artist, stay here my whole life."
Clasping his hands together, he begins to conclude.
"So yes. That is all. Even this quote-unquote dingy town I find more interesting than what came before. Please, show me more."
