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.”
The elf looks at the old woman with a suprised yet intrigued look, then lowers herself onto the offered cushion, moving with the quiet grace of the forests she left behind. The candlelight catches the sharp lines of her elven features, eyes watchful but tired. She tells the hag that she once had a home among her kin, but never a place within it, her love for writing and to the delicate art of forging jewelry had set her apart, unwelcome in halls that valued old customs over new expression. She came from a great house of hunters, but she never cared for it and had always longed for something more than what had been shown to her. So she left, carrying her manuscripts, her tools, and the finely wrought pieces she crafted by hand, wandering in search of people who might read her words and wear her creations.
