You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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.”
Malara shakes a clump of mud from her skirt, looking at the woman curiously. "you've been expecting me? how come?" she asks, more curious than angry. When the woman just looks at her expectantly, she sighs and takes a seat on the cushion. "Very well, I don't know why you want to know my story, but I will tell you it."
"Like many halflings," she begins, twiddling her thumbs in her lap, "I grew up in a small village a ways away from here. We live a simple life there, and many are happy to stay there for their whole life, secluded from much of the world." She pauses for a moment, looking up at the hag. "But something in me has always wondered- what else is there to this world? Where would life take me if I were to leave my village, head towards the city?"
She smiles to herself, chuckling. "My mother still doesn't approve, she would much rather me stay home, but I just had to know." she looks up to the hag, smiling softly. "I want to see what else is out there, because somehow I know, it must be magnificent. So that's what I'm doing, I'm heading towards the city- I don't know what I'm going to do there yet, but I'm so excited just to see what it's like. And who knows, I might hate it, but I'll never know if I don't try it."
She looks up at the old hag once again, having been looking at her lap for the past couple minutes, and she smiles, a small fire burning in her eyes "Well there you go, that's my story."
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