illya

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?)) "Oh! You have to hear this one—promise you won't fall asleep halfway through?" She twirls a lock of her long pink hair around one finger, grinning mischievously. "So there I was, standing on the edge of the Silverpine Bluffs, wind in my face, map in my hands, and not the faintest idea where I was going—which, honestly, is the best way to travel if you ask me. I’d spent centuries tucked away in the old forest libraries, pouring over maps and dusty tomes about far-off lands, and one day I just said, ‘No more!’ I wanted to see the world, not just read about it." She pauses, her purple eyes gleaming with excitement. "I wandered through mountain passes, danced with spirits in moonlit meadows, even shared wine with a troll chieftain once—don't ask. But when I stumbled across this town, something just… clicked. There was music in the air, laughter in the streets, and the smell of honeycakes on the breeze. I thought, ‘Yes, this place. This will do nicely.’" She spins in a half-circle, arms wide. "Of course, I’ll move on again one day—explorers never stay still forever—but for now? I’m right where I need to be. And anyway, someone has to keep things interesting around here!"