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?))
The interest of the woman was met with a piercing gaze of sheer mistrust, only for her to look quickly left and right, just to make sure she was actually being spoken to.
"Me?", finally escaped the young womans mouth, shuttering almost at the sound of her own voice, mustering the lady that approached her with wakeful eyes behind the concealing reflection of her classes, "You must be mistaken,... I am looking for someone, no one particular just someone that looks smart."
She took a short break in between words, just to let what was spoken sink in, and yet as the interest of the woman that had approached her didn't seem to waver, she picked up initiative again "Now that you are here though, do you mind helping me with my search? I am looking for a teacher, a powerful one would be great yet... someone that understands a thing or two about the functions of magic? I had seen that kind of man, once back in my town, a man that could weave the threads of fire in his fingers, sparking them, entertaining the townsfolk with his tricks. I was wondering if you would know where to find such a person, they seem rare, and yet I cannot help but yearn for these secrets. I just have to know."
There was a flame in her eyes, a flame that was lit so many years ago, and a hunger that drove her away from home, one that was constantly eating on what innocence she might hold.
