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.”
Avelyn Windglade:
Avelyn pauses at the tent’s entrance, her pale fingers clinging to the fabric of her worn clothes. The air smells of moss and damp wood, pressing down on her chest. She lowers her gaze, unable to meet the hag’s eyes, before stepping timidly inside. Her pale blonde hair falls over her face as she sits upon the cushion, her hands trembling in her lap.
“I… I don’t truly know why I’ve come here,” she whispers. “I have no home anymore. My mother was a Wood Elf, my father a High Elf. Because of this I was always different, never fully trusted. I lived in a small village once… but it was destroyed. Everyone I knew, everyone I loved… they are gone.”
Her voice breaks, and her violet eyes flicker with fear as well as sorrow.
“I was captured after the raid. They carved a seal into my chest, binding me to the will of my masters. For many years, I obeyed… I had no choice. But now… my last master is dead, and the seal lies dormant. I wander alone, frail and lost, unsure of who I am without chains to hold me.”
She looks down at her hands, twisting the fabric of her clothes between her fingers.
“If you expected me… then perhaps you know what I cannot see. A place where I might belong… or at least, where I am not alone.”
