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?))
A maiden eyes a beldam, and says nothing in reply. At first. Some time passes before Lilibelle finds herself comfortable to answer. When she does, she meets the old woman's greeting with, "You?" a seeming distrust of the other woman's statement. Then, curiosity, as Lily finds herself eyeing closely the figure opposite she. In time, she says only, "Answers," but she does not yet sit.
Eventually Lilibelle seems to trust the crone enough to utter her name. "Lily," she introduces quickly, but does not give it full. "Surely you do not expect me," she offers, her first full statement, "I did not even expect to be here myself. This place is not my home.
"My story is no novel," she goes on after a while. "I do not remember why I am traveling, any more. I am not convinced that I know where I want to end up. Steel guides me," she clutches on the handle of the sword that she wears. It looks almost as big as she. "I dream only of angels, anymore. There are no angels here. You are no angel."
Lily glares upon the old thing. "I suppose that I have gone on, seeking the world's conflict. There, just maybe, I shall find what I am seeking. Angels and steel are strange things to dream of, to be driven by, would you not agree? But war drives mortals...and there will always be war. When the next comes, I shall be there. So, too, shall the angels, I think."
It seems that Lilibelle alludes to the divine, in some way. In another, it seems that she herself does not even know what she is searching for. Dreams of angels? Guided by steel? A vagabond, for certain. But a servant of some god? She seems innocent, at sight, not a warrior. Still, she seems convinced of her conviction, strange as it might sound.
"I've seen dingier towns. Wetter towns. Towns more rotted than this one. I think I will see more, before I am done traveling. You say that you have expected me...but do you think the same?"
