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."
-“Expecting me, you say? Then fate must have a cruel sense of humor. Few have awaited me with welcome since the fall of my house.” He gives a faint, tired smile. “I am Vesperus of Fidelianus. The only child, and descendant from the Fidelianus house. My father fell in war, and I fled before the flames reached the gates.” He glances toward the candles, voice softening. “Everyone I knew is now gone, like the drawings in the sand that the tides wash away. I’ve wandered since. Even chased, but not yet defeated.” His eyes return to her. “So, tell me, if you truly expected me, what is it you see in a fallen man covered in ash and mud?"
