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?))
Example: (delete this)
"Oh, I just, uh…" you stutter, tensing up. You eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
She paused for just a moment her eyes meeting the strangers again. "The city's large and winding. I was lost" she claimed her voice was smooth, sweet. Calm. she made her way to the cushion she gestured to, her footsteps light and quiet. She took her seat her body unmistakably relaxed she was calm and concise in her actions. She was sure of herself, confident and trusting. "story?" she repeats pausing for a moment considering where to begin. Her young years? adopted by humans before inevitably out living them, her return to the high elves? The unfamiliar environment the expectations to understand and grow into the natural life as an elf. An escape to find some sense of normalcy before ending up in a dingy town. Wondering for the last decade? lost. The space was oddly comfortable, and this person seemed so trusting her story filled the room. discussion of everything her words fumbled a few times and having to go back and add some details new similarities she'd long forgotten. The way her mother smelled, the playing fighting with her older brother, the warmth of the home. she was comfortable, poised in response, and knew when too much detail was too much.
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