"Ze wagon is fine iron one, come, zit zit!" says the old man in his strange accent, motioning to the party. "I am Scarengi, and this is my wife Ryana." He says motioning to a plump woman with silver hair and laughing eyes, who is almost as ancient as Scarengi. "Zhis is our vardo, ve are... how do you zay.... travelers? Yes Travelers! Ve travel through ze lands performing small tasks for ze local people...."
He is silent for a moment, poking the fire with a stick. "I could tell you a tale of a great traveler, vould you like to hear it?" Without waiting for an answer he starts to spin his yarn. He tells you of a man named Rudolph, who was a traveler, a writer, a historian, and an adventurer. He traveled the land, facing great evils and always battling against a greater one with unseen guiding hands. You sit enraptured at his tale. It could of have been minutes or hours since the tale has started... but too soon it seems, it comes to an end.
"But zhat was long time ago..." the old man says and sighs. "But you did not come here to listen to ze tales of an old man." he says laughing. "You came here to visit Marais d'Tarascon, no? It lies at the edge of this swamp. It is not far, but it is not a place to visit on a night such as this.” Under his breath, the younger man adds, “Better to stay in the swamp.”
"But enough of zhis talk" the old man says. "Come, where are my manners! You must be hungry! Come, join us for dinner! Perhaps,” he says with a sparkle in his eye, “zhere will even be time for a fortune.”