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.”
Elyan’s gaze was drawn to the flames above, their flickering light dancing in his pale eyes. For a moment, he forgot the witch’s voice, immersed in the quiet rhythm of fire.
Then, obediently, he lowered himself onto the cushion. With great care, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a worn, water-stained notebook.
Scratch, scratch, scratch...
The only sound in the tent was the scratching of charcoal on paper. Dozens of seconds passed in silence before he finally held up the notebook, tilted slightly toward the witch’s face. The handwriting, though rushed, was neat and legible.
“I come from a small town. That’s all. I didn’t mean to bother you. I wasn’t born into any noble house, so I don’t have much to say. Just the only son of a little bookstore owner.”
His lips curled into a crooked smile, silent still. Then, as if to answer the silence again, he began writing once more:
“Would it be alright if we continue like this? I find it hard to speak. Being around people makes me... nervous. I think something’s wrong with me. My parents think so too. But I’ll be an architect someday. I’ll design buildings that make people stop and stare. Even if I’m just a wanderer now... hehe. Was that at least a fun story?”
He covered his mouth with the notebook and peeked over its edge, trying to read her expression.
Then the page turned,
“I only need a place to rest for tonight. My journey to the next city has been delayed. I hear it has beautiful architecture—maybe I’ll find inspiration there. I’d like to see this village too before I go. If that’s alright?”
