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?))
"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 the wind knocks an old broom into a window. the window creaks open, and shows signs of severe distress and looks uncared for. trying to change the subject, Oletha talks about the window, not wanting to expose her past with a total stranger. "Your window is very-" before she can finish, the topic is back on. "Tell me." Oletha knows this woman is serious. she has to make a move, and decides to just be honest. "I used to be a seamstress at a dying tailorshop. i was so tired of that life, that i began to travel the world and see it as it is. My father used to be an archer, and trained me when i was young. he died after an ambush from [____]'s."
