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?))
Kiran skitters on the spot, curling in on himself as he stares at the hag, slowly approaching the cushion in which he was gestured to. He bites the inside of his cheek as the boy runs his finger tips over his burnt knuckles. "I- Uh...Must I? Alright then..." Kiran pulls a candle from his bag and stands it on a small brass holder, lighting it carefully before looking at the crone in the eyes. "I apologise Auntie.....I-I'm afraid...I'm afraid of the dark."
Kiran pulls his knees to his chest, beginning to tell his story as so:
"When I was younger I found myself abandoned in a cave. A group of my friends and I were wondering about... being h-honestly just stupid. We ran into a nearby cave and played a game of tag." Kiran's eyes flutter between the candle and the hag, his amber eyes reflecting that of a warm hearth steeped in fatigue. "My friend Sanjay had tagged me, and as I was chasing him... the cave well...caved in. I stood their in utter shock as the rocks came crashing down on him and I was plunged into complete darkness.."
Kiran's eyes begin to glaze as his gaze becomes fixed on the flickering flame of the candle, his hands reaching to grab it before forcing them beneath his legs. I was left there alone for week... a week in pitch black with a short supply of food and water that I was forced to ration. The only think keeping me sane was the light that seeped through the cracks...yet the stones never budged. I mean... of course, eventually I was 'rescued' but honestly... I've never been the same since then."
Kiran reached for the candle, this time grasping it fully before placing his hand in his bag and pulling out another candle, lighting it gently with the light that was already burning bright, a drip of wax falling to lay on his hand, though the boy does not flinch. He holds the candle out and offers it to the crone.
"Here! Have this Auntie... for your hospitality. Ever since that day, I have sworn that I will do whatever....whatever it takes to ensure those around me have a light to keep them going. Do what you will with the candle, but just remember that even in the darkest of times, a dim glow is all you need to keep you going."
Kiran rises from his cushion, bowing to the hag as he makes his way to the entrance of the tent. "Have a good evening Auntie....I-... I will be around.... Just look for the light." Karin smiles softly, a brave façade yet beyond that it is evident that he is full of sorrow, pain and regret. Walking away, the candle-maker has a slight limp, and a hunched back full of agony as he shrinks into his coat, a subtle sob echoing amongst the bog.
