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?))
Aelrion steps quietly into the dim tent, his gaze lingering briefly on the floating candles before turning toward the old woman. Without hurry, he lowers himself onto the cushion she gestures toward.
“My story?” he repeats calmly.
“There is not much drama in it, I’m afraid.”
“I was born deep within the forests, where life moves slowly and little changes from year to year. For a long time I believed that was enough.”
He folds his hands loosely in his lap.
“But over the years travelers would pass through the forest roads: humans, merchants, wanderers. Their lives seemed so brief, yet so full of movement.”
A faint smile touches his expression.
“So eventually I chose to see the world for myself. I have been walking its roads ever since.”
His eyes lift toward the hag.
“But if you were expecting me… I wonder what you believe I will find here.”
