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?))
I spent a good deal of time studying her, until I felt uncomfortable for scrutinizing the poor woman. It felt disgusting that I am too scared to speak before studying others.
"Are you sure, my story would interest you? I always thought of it so base and humbly..." I muttered meekly, my fangs straining the way my speak.
I only continued as she ushered me.
"I don't know when, but I woke up one day, surrounded by dead and dying. It felt like I was riding a horse and fell." I try to remember the moment, there was pain on my neck.
"There were always two holes on my neck, and sometimes it would wake me up from pain in the dead of night. It always wake me up when I was dreaming of something terrible that happens to people in armor. They were talking like my friends but I swear to have never seen them."
I paused, believing I have spoken too much but it was far from truth. In the old woman's eyes, there was something that shouldn't be there, life. Her eyes glistered with interest.
"The human they don't like me, although I look quite similar, the highlander accepted me at first glance, however. I have always been with them since I woke up."
