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?))
Martel Tealeaf pushes aside the tent flap enthusiastically. The swampy, rotten town had not dampened his spirits. The swamp’s chill still clings to his cloak, and he wipes a smear of wet moss from his sleeve before stepping fully inside. He rubbed his sore feet on the carpet in attempt to clean off some of the swamp mud. His body showed signs of someone who’s been travelling far longer than his small body is intended for.
The floating candles draw his eyes upward, soft light flickering over his road worn face. 43 isn’t old for a halfling, but it’s old enough for his wanderlust to start wearing thin at the edges.
“You.. were expectin’ me..?” he says, eyebrows rising. His tone is curious, but cautious in the way of someone who’s seen a few too many strange things outside the safety of Brandybrook.
He settles onto the cushion she gestures to, dropping his pack beside him. Compared to him, it's practically the size of another halfling, stuffed with souvenirs, maps, food, and all sorts of useful tools for on the road.
“I’m Martel Tealeaf. Been on the road since I was barely tall enough to see over the market stalls, not that I have grown much since then. For some reason I have never figured out, adventure has always called to me.”
He brings his hands together with a soft clap, rubbing them together, glancing around the dim tent.
“But I’ll be honest with you, settlin’ down’s been on my mind lately, my bones are startin' to get weary. A warm hearth, a little house and a garden with some decent soil is what I'm lookin' for now. I’ve had my fill of danger and wet feet.”
He looks up at her, a mixture of curiosity and fatigue in his eyes.
"That same thing that called me for adventure is now calling for rest and peace. I figured maybe fate’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’.”
