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.”
Newt Thistlewitch stepped forward, her golden eyes lifting to meet the old hag's gaze. A light scattering of freckles dusted her face, shifting subtly across her cheeks and nose. The old hag can see the constellations in the freckles - The Aquarius, Corvus, and Perseus, showing the faint curiosity Newt held towards her.
A bird perched nearby, its feathers so black it seemed to consume the moonlight. A raven, the old hag thinks to herself. The raven ruffles its wings, letting out a sharp caw as if to reassure Newt that she is where she is supposed to be.
Newt sat on the offered cushion with care, letting her hands brush absently against the bones and chimes hanging from her belt. Her fingers gently traced the intricate carving etched into the bones, each line a story, forgotten or yet to be told. Though she sat almost motionless, the tips of her ears twitched as if in a bustling city, not a quiet, sleepy town.
"I walk where the land grows quiet," she began, her voice cool. "I have learned from voices that travel in the wind and from creatures that dwell within the forest.” Outside, the raven stretches its large wings, flapping as if to help carry the voices to Newt on the wind created by its wings.
“I treasure things left behind and gifts of memory often overlooked by others. I offer what is needed, not what is asked for, for time often reveals the true value." Newt pauses and ***** her head to the side, mimicking the raven's movement as it caws once again.
The freckles on her face shift again. The old hag discerns one: The Chimera - truth has many faces. "I have wandered far," Newt continues, "guided by the whispers of history and the quiet lessons of the forests. I do not speak without reason, nor act without thought. That is my story."
