This uniform rather suits me, would you not say? Or perhaps it is I that suits it.
After all my transgressions, I am grateful indeed for this chance to start anew. Buscarron! Laurentius shall do you proud!
Wood Wailers, Crystal Braves
Laurentius never knew the man who sired him, his father vanishing long before he was born. Laurentius also never knew the woman who bore him, his mother slain by a bandit when he was but a boy. He joined the Wood Wailers with grand hopes of defending Gridania from within, but quickly alienated his brothers-in-arms by reporting their every violation—no matter how trivial—out of a mistaken sense of duty. Perhaps his actions bespeak a craving for something to help him overcome his sense of powerlessness, be that coin, power, or a cause in which to believe. Or perhaps the Midlander of twenty-eight summers is merely a spoony mooncalf beyond saving. Thus isolated, Laurentius can oft be found sullenly eating antelope stew alone at Buscarron's Druthers. There, at least, it seems someone will speak to him...as long as there is coin in his purse.