Syenzo

Servica arrived in a swampy, dim town. As she looks around, her gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. She ducks and steps 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 Servica's face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?)) Having never seen much magic before, Servica is immediately put off by the floating candles in the tent, slightly delaying the question of how exactly the hag knew her; "I, um..." she stutters, not knowing how to approach this. Finally, she asks the old lady: "Are you some kind of um... Mage?" The hag quickly responded: "A sorceress, to be precise, and i've been expecting your arrival for a while now, so sit down and tell me all about you. I've grown tired of waiting." Now, even more confused than before, Servica hesitates before deciding that angering anyone who knows any magic isn't exactly convenient, and the "sorceress", whatever that word meant, seemed pretty impatient. Plus, there would have been no harm to telling her anything, so she sat down on the cushion the hag had gestured to her. Without small talk, Servica begins to tell her story: "So, uh, where do i start... Well, i was born in a nomadic group, composed of a couple of small families of farfolks. I don't really remember much about my childhood, my mother was never home, so the only one who really took any care of me was my father, who taught me a lot about Tezwa and the world —" After unkindly interrupting her, the sorceress asked: "And who exactly is this Tezwa?" Servica held back, as to not appear as if she's proselytizing, but responded immediately: "Tezwa, She who made the world and all things in it—... but, uhm, going back to my story, my father taught me everything. One day, while migrating, we were passing past a travelling group of knights, one of which seemingly wanted to approach us. When we stopped to rest, he, who in all fairness looked dashing at the moment, went to my father and talked with him over an ale. after a couple hours of enjoying themselves, they both came towards me and my father said something along the lines of: "Servica! I want you to meet this fine gentleman, a real noble he! I'm thinking he'll be a good husband for you, what do you say?" The knight did seem like a kind man, and considering my age at the time i should've been looking for an husband as is tradition of our group. So i ended up marrying him, leaving my nomadic life (along with my father), to live with my husband, who is... A good man, despite his flaws. He used to work in the military as, of course, a knight, but some years after my child was born, we were forced to leave. He told me that his superiors had a massive grudge against him and that they'd send assassins to us soon. So, we left. And we travelled, miles and miles, until eventually we ended up here. Right now he's in the caravan with the kid... and my father..., and i'm looking for anywhere we can rest in really."