Mr_Vandalieu

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?))

Born in a forgotten town, in the middle of nowhere, Mr. Vandalieu travels the lands as a minstrel, earning enough to pay for a room and a hot meal through his trade. He learned the art of singing, jazz music specifically, from another wandering minstrel when he was just a kid, and he's loved to sing ever since.

His old bones don't keep him from moving too fast, he's still fairly fit, and he's more of a social man than any type of sophisticated builder. Despite his age, he can do physical labor, and he has done it for years to make ends meet. His favorite types of work are mining and singing, really his only polished skills in life. Everything else is a haze of distant memories for him...Almost all of his old friends and acquaintances are dead or haven't been seen in years. He's seen most things, from wondrously fascinating to downright evil, and through it all he's managed to become a decent man. His policy is to generally treat others with kindness and compassion, but he has a bit of a mischievous streak within him as well. 

Vox tips his hat, and sits down and orders a drink, easing himself into the chair with a sigh.
V: "What's there to tell? I'm sure you've seen folks like me before. I'm just a passing singer, friend. The world has left me behind, and my songs are a testament to the youth I've lost to the wind, and a love I've never found."

H: "My, my. To speak of lost youth to an old hag like me....Aren't you a bit cheeky?"

V: "What hag? I only see a beautiful lady..."

H: "Oh, tell me more.."

V: "With long, black hair...And big, beautiful brown eyes..."

H: "What a charmer you are. But flattery will get you nowhere here."

Vox smiles at her

V: "Well, how about a song then?"

H: "Oooh, what kind  of song does a strapping man like you know?'

V: "Well, you see, I only know one song, but you'd be surprised at how many ways you can play it."

H: "Only one song?'

V: "Yeah, that's right. It's the same song, with the same words....Well, the words are different sometimes, I guess....And the tune changes everytime I sing it, I suppose...."

H: "Silly, how can the song be the same if the tune and the words change?"

V: "Well...."

Vox starts to sing

V: "All I know are love songs...And they say the same things..."