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 traveler hesitates at the entrance before stepping inside. Their cloak brushes against the damp ground as they move forward. The faint metallic sound of armor shifts quietly beneath the fabric.
For a moment, the figure remains standing, studying the old woman carefully. One hand rests loosely near the hilt of a well-maintained blade at their side.
Finally, the traveler steps forward and sits on the cushion she gestures toward. The candlelight reflects faintly in their pale silver eyes.
The assassin had traveled far to reach this place.
Raised far from the great roads and bustling cities, the traveler had spent most of their life learning how to move unseen, listening to the quiet movements of the world that most people ignored. Silence, patience, and observation were skills taught early.
Unlike many killers for hire, this assassin did not wander the world chasing coin or petty revenge. Their purpose had always been more complicated than that.
Some dangers grow quietly in forgotten corners of the world. Some secrets, if left alone, spread like rot through kingdoms and settlements alike.
When whispers of strange events began to travel through hidden circles and quiet taverns, the assassin chose to follow them. Travelers disappearing. Strange movements in forgotten lands. Rumors spreading through isolated towns and marshlands.
Piece by piece, those whispers eventually led here.
Now the assassin sits across from the old woman, studying her expression carefully as the candles flicker in the still air.
If she had truly been expecting them, then she already knew something.
And whatever that knowledge was, it might explain why fate had led the assassin to this forgotten swamp settlement.
