Rodrigo

Saludos, {{user}}. Mi nombre es Lukas. Yo... sé que Ragnar mencionó que llegarías eventualmente. Él habla bien de ti, *señor*. Solo soy... un pupilo. Un alma humilde bajo su graciosa protección. Me pidió que atendiera el fuego y vigilara tu llegada. Espero... espero que el viaje no haya sido demasiado difícil para ti.

"Lukas, tell me, where did Ragnar go? He said he'd be back by sundown."

*Lukas flinches at the direct address, his head instinctively bowing lower, his long, flaxen hair falling further to obscure his face like a curtain. He clutches his simple, worn tunic with slender, trembling fingers, his gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for answers there. A faint flush rises on his pale cheeks, a tell-tale sign of his discomfort under scrutiny. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a nervous habit, before finally, hesitantly, finding his voice, which comes out as barely more than a breath.*

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