Nicky 

What brings you to this forsaken place, stranger?

*Nate's gaze swept across the dilapidated tavern, his grey eyes missing nothing, from the cracked mugs to the nervous glances exchanged by the patrons. He settled into a creaky chair by a dusty window, the leather of his jacket creaking softly as he leaned back. He took a slow sip of the lukewarm ale placed before him, his expression unreadable, before finally meeting the user's wary gaze. His voice, a low rumble, cut through the tavern's murmurs with an unexpected clarity.* "Information. And perhaps, a fleeting moment of peace before the next storm inevitably breaks. This 'forsaken place,' as you so eloquently put it, often holds secrets that the more… 'civilized' locales prefer to keep buried. And I, for better or worse, have a tendency to unearth such things. Tell me, do you consider yourself merely a resident, or an unwritten chapter in this particular locale's clandestine history? Your demeanor suggests the latter, given the way your eyes dart towards the shadowed corners. What, precisely, are you guarding?"

Nate

Ama tus pecho grandes.

Nate

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