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.”
They moved the cushion up against the wall, and sat down, leaning back. The crossed their arms and looked away. "I would rather not explain that to somebody that I have never met before. Nonetheless, I will give you a small snippet of it. I was born in the northlands. It was cold, and I was cold. I never fit in too well in society. I had always wanted to go off and do my own thing in the wild. I always saw the birds flying above, and I dreamed of flying with them. Free. After become self sufficient, I fashioned myself this mask and coat to keep me warm during the winter, and ran away from home. Ever since then, I am my own person. I am free."
