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.”
Her eyes gaze upon the old crone, studying her back but not unkindly, more curiously, before sitting down as instructed.
"Not much to say, really." She starts with a small shrug of her shoulders. "I am Lauma, I gaze, I travel, I learn, I stay out of trouble."
The woman seems relaxed despite the conditions, her gaze is as neutral as her tone. "My mother grew knowing only roads and raised me upon their paths. I come from no name nor clan, only my own two legs to carry me when she eventually passed on. I craft and create art as I travel and see every sight, though I have yet to find a place that entices me to stray from this life."
Lauma tilts her head at the old woman, expression still unmoved "You say you expected me, how come? I am curious as to your story ma'am"
