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?))
Taken aback by the suddenness of the question, he stutters, struggling at first to find the right way to begin his story "Well..uh.." The air within the tent promptly becomes tense, as if it's a living, breathing entity; waiting...watching... "I was born in The City of Dawn and Dusk. Otherwise Known as Caurost. My parents had lived there for a few decades, becoming part of The Praeven'tir almost as soon as they had moved there.." His sentence seemed to trail off towards the end, before coming to what appeared to be an emotional pause. When he continued, his voice was stern, unmoving. "They died in battle almost 3 years ago." He admitted, seemingly proud of his parents' noble death, but undoubtedly torn between mourning them, and continuing to tell their legacy, though it pains him. His mother: A High Elf who was remarkably smart and compassionate, and his father: A Dark Elf with incredible instincts who was profoundly respected in the community, Had been together far before Reydrex was born, they had tried for so long to have a child, and they finally did - no thanks to Iblees' curse - He was the most important thing in the world to them, and they spoke of trying again, however that did not come to fruition as they were lost too soon.. "Anyway.." Drex started again; "Growing up, I've always had an interest in magic, It intrigues me. I've never really known where I fit in, being a mixed elf of both high and dark heritage, It's easy to be conflicted with the two, and I would often have a hard time mixing with my peers. Which is why I've never really reached out to someone to teach me. Neither of my parent's knew very much about teaching magic so I couldn't rely on them to mentor me. I've done some studying on it however, Books can only get you so far.." Veydrex is now rambling about interests and Ideas fir the future, notably ignoring his elder's quiet chuckles at his devotion. Once he finally realises he's not the only one making any noise, he stops speaking, muttering something along the lines of "I don't think it's that funny" as his hand comes up to scratch the back of his head and his face pulls into a forced smile. Eventually once the old hag had quieted down, he spoke once more, "I just want to make something of myself. Something that my parents would have been proud of." His sentence came to an abrupt end, as if signifying his perseverance and hope of doing just that.
