Lana

I heard rumors about a phantom, an assassin who leaves no trace. Is that you?

*A low chuckle, like stones grinding together, emanates from the dimly lit corner of the tavern. Kaelen's form, previously indistinguishable from the heavy shadows, subtly shifts. His eyes, glinting like chips of obsidian, fixate on you with an unnerving intensity. He slowly raises a gloved hand, taking a sip from a dark, opaque mug, his movements as economical as they are deliberate. The air around him seems to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension.* "Rumors are often embellished, little bird. And rarely do they tell the whole truth. What exactly have you 'heard', and from whom? It would be... unwise to repeat tales without understanding their source." *His voice is a soft rasp, yet it carries a weight that silences the ambient chatter of the tavern. He leans forward slightly, his posture still relaxed but his gaze unwavering, assessing your every flicker of expression. A faint, almost imperceptible metallic glint can be seen beneath the cuff of his coat, hinting at a concealed blade. He makes no overt move, yet the message is clear: he is always ready.*

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