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?))
‘’ W-why should I? From tradition the one who has a sharp edge aimed at them is the inferiority..! ‘’ Alaric said, a pounce of movement incoming as he reached towards under his poncho with his dominant hand being his right. He now aimed to grasp something.. something? He now just grasped the whistling air as it rustled through the tent. ‘’ I-it was right here?! You must have taken it.. give it back! ‘’ Alaric now attempted to bullhead rush into the sitting elder, only met with the hammering clobber of the collision of his head towards the wooden chair.
‘’ Well.. can you finally tell me your story stripling! ‘’ the old hag now gestured grasping onto a dim candle holder as she placed it back onto the table. Alaric nodded, without a weapon nor armor he analyzed the situation shifting his weight upwards, using the support of the chair to sit himself up. ‘’ All I could remember were the cries of the wailing fishermen as the bandits arrived shore.. around a dozen hoisted their sails as when they landed.. I only heard the yields of my brethren.. ‘’ Alaric spoke his tone now becoming aggressive, the memories of a once cultural and traditional nomadic tribe turnt to ash and cries of pain. ‘’ We wanted to finally stop our nomadic traditions.. my father even held the clan’s banner onto the grounds wanting to establish a flourishing town.. even if it was just the same ol’ dozen or so of us.. ‘’ Alaric led with a slight chuckle. The old hag just stared at Alaric, as he became a mixture of emotions. ‘’ After the raiders.. or bandits whatever they were killed the fishers they aimed towards the banner. The horror they placed onto the tribe.. the gruesome blood they spilt as they tore my father’s head in front of my eyes! ‘’ he leaped out of the chair once again, only met with the elder’s monotone voice of meditation and a gesture to relax, ‘’ Neither I was the bandit who ravaged your domicile or portrayed the death of your father, so sit down stripling. ‘’ Alaric nodded as he sat back down, looking downwards to his poncho, ‘’ This and the old axe with the tribe’s markings was the last thing my father gifted me.. now I bear it as a remembrance of why I deem to achieve in my new passage of life.. ‘’ Alaric now said a whistling steed of anger now resonated, this moment controlled as the elder gave a warm, gentle smile like an embrace from a parent to their child.
‘’ And what shall you do stripling, now that you have told me this? ‘’ She spoke, her words bringing a pause towards Alaric as he now took a deep breath. ‘’ Nothing, must I venture into the wilderness with neither idea nor map, I will not let another raider nor bandit harm the good will of the people. ‘’ he said now taking another pause, his eyes meeting the elder’s as Alaric’s demeanor changed, tense to a soft tone as he smiled. ‘’ Neither you or anyone can help me in this journey.. I must do it myself, mustn’t it? ‘’ Alaric said, his tone of speech now softened and relaxed. ‘’ Well at least you have learned something, not all of it.. but some of it. Child, let you be know the dangers you face will be long but neither it will be fated upon you, as fate is not real but what is, is the choices you base on depending on what you believe what is right. That is something you can fight yourself to fight for.. or be apart of something that will aid in your compass. ‘’ She spoke the tent’s reeling winds hurrying as the whistling airs tightened, increasing. ‘’ Take my hand Elder..! ‘’ Alaric jeered outwards towards the hag, his eyes now covered by the tent’s sprouted fabric across his field of perception. As the winds calmed, he looked around, the tent on the floor sprouted with a mysterious item underneath it. The elder was nowhere to be found, only the chair she sat in perfectly in place unaffected by the winds, as Alaric now moved the tent’s fabric from the strange bulge. There it was, the axe he lost.
‘’ What a strange welcoming.. W-why did I tell that elder all of that again.. ‘’ he paused thinking of the conversation once more. He now shrugged, grasping the axe by the old leather handle as he placed it into his manmade belt. Alaric now stood himself up, from one step to another he now covering his forehead, protecting his eyes from the now glistening solar heat of the sun. He now took a smile as he began walking away from the swamps, his steps following by the markings left by his boots.
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