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.”
((How do you respond?))
(I hope my new app is suitable!)
"Who, me?" Queried the keen eyed elf with a light smile.
Slipping into his hands his classic silver stringed lyre, young Adonis strokes out subtle sounds of thought. Listening to her words with at least a bit of reverence.
"Who can say truly why the fair wind has taken me this far..." He smiles reminiscing. "It has been countless nights at sea. My beautiful mother had raised me in the 'aheral enclaves and colonies in lands far flung. I can thank her for keeping me safe and aiding my growth and learning!" His subtle song turned into more of a wash which flowed over the occupants of that stingy bar. "I have come to answer the call, and return now to the silver land of our ancestors. Haelun'or is my destination. It is there I fly!"
Adonis smiles as he had stood. The young high elf had a simple pack, but loaded for travel.
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2023_02/image-130.png.1450908bb1e8f8b5ca2f669f48771691.png)
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