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?))
Amisra observed the woman with caution, the whole town having given her the creeps. Taking a look at the cushion the lady motioned to, she tried not to make a face at the dusty beat-up thing. After a moment of hesitation, she sat down slowly, hoping it wouldn't stain her beautiful dress.
"I..." She trailed off at first, her story..? She looked down at her lap before quickly returning her gaze to the older woman. Half-scolding herself mentally for being so unpoised.
"Im, a child that wasn't meant to be," she finally starts. "A child bound by two races, who was shunned by the one that mattered most."
She pauses again, moving to tuck a piece of her long hair that has since fell out of its bun behind her longer ears. "I am half human, half Mali'aheral.. If I can even say that. I have left my home city to find more, to find out about myself."
"Im not entirely sure who I am as a being, or where I belong yet, but my name is Amisra Virbella."
"I wish to make a name for myself. To find myself, and open up to others.."
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