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?))
-"Me?" says Leufroy, a little surprised He shrugged his shoulders even if he could not get the old lady’s face back
- "Pardon me, excuse me, I make myself at home" He finished getting into the tent until he stood up and gently removed his camail, then sat down on a stool and came to put it on his leg and took advantage of it to mend his moustache.
Leufroy Lansat is a man in his thirties, the features of his face are drawn from fatigue. His grey eyes are less noticeable than his large brown moustache.
-"Well... I come from Petra, well more of the wrong corners than nice houses with good wine at the table" he says looking around.
The tent was in a pitiful state but at least it was not a problem to have mud on his boots, which was strangely brand new!
He probably borrowed them from someone who wouldn’t need them anymore.
He then took his wineskin, removed the cork and continued - " My story is not very interesting... Where to start, my father?
I never knew the man, my mother did what she could to raise me and I can’t thank her enough."
He swallowed a few sips of his cheap wine that even sailors no longer want to drink.
- "I quickly started working on the farm at first to make some coins and as soon as I had the strength to carry an axe I began cutting wood"
But as everyone knows, honest work doesn’t pay much, he thought. He looked at the hag up and down, then closed his wineskin.
-"Pfff..." he sighed
- "And then what good... I quickly did some larceny, small robberies nothing bad, fights in old taverns where you could bet and also gambling."
He was wearing an old leather belt that asked only to break, the bets must have not brought him much. While Lansat was dabbling in his story, he was lighting a pipe, tired of the smell of rotten wood and mud.
As he spat the smoke towards the lady, he then opened his lips again
- "But I ended up becoming a mercenary for a few years, hanging around in bad places and wielding the axe during my childhood was at least useful."
He was wearing an old beige gambison which had to have been used by another soldier before him.
-"I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m the only one talking and I won’t tell you all my secrets. Who are you?" Said Leufroy in a drier tone pointing the old lady with his pipe
It is not better to annoy an Auvergnat if you want my opinion.
