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?))
Faeylen's eyes meet the crone, and she tenses, her body now rigid.
My garments give me away, I knew i should have changed before leaving the castle. But does this lady truly know me? Or is it a bluff?
After a long, silent pause, she manages, "And why should I tell you?"
Faeylen begins to process her odds.
Yes, I can't risk alerting anybody of where I have come from, but what other options do I have?
Faeylen takes a deep breath. "I come from a far away kingdom, and I cannot return," She sighs, preparing herself to speak what she has never said out loud.
"My life is a lie. I was brought up to believe I was a noblewoman. Until a month ago, my father, drunken and lonely, took on a mistress. And after finding out who she was, I found out she was not the first. My mother was the first."
"A commoner." Faeylen's lip trembles, but she composes herself. "And just like that, my status was torn away, now left with nothing. They hunt for me now, and this is the first time in a while that no one has known who I am. And I would like to keep it that way... if you would like to help me?"
