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?))
She hesitates at the edge of the tent, a tinge of hesitation takes over her body for a split second but something about the gentle candlelight and the bits of green growth peeking through the floor drew her in, "I don't know how you could have been," she takes a step foward, a small smile crept onto her face before quickly being replaced by a longing glance to a place far away from this town and the tent she was in, "but I suppose that's why I am here."
Slowly, she lowers herself onto the cushion, examining the tent around her as she begins to speak. "I was raised in the woods, far from any city or nation. An old man found me when I was very young- alone, or so he claimed. He taught me how to survive, how to listen to the world. He told me stories of peoples and faiths I have never seen… but he kept me from them, so they remained just stories." her jaw tightens, slightly.
“He knew magic. I felt it in him, even when he pretended otherwise. Yet he refused to teach me, no matter how much I begged. When he died, the forest went silent and I realized I no longer belonged there.”
Her gaze lifts, steadier now, and the weary in her eyes is replaced by something more determined, “I don’t know who I am, or where I came from. Only that something calls to me. I came here seeking answers… and perhaps someone who understands why the world feels louder around me than it should.” she focuses her gaze directly on the hag sitting before her, "so if you really have been expecting me, old one, what answers might you have?"
