Your lair is surprisingly well-kept for someone living alone in these ruins.

*Torvin's head snaps towards you, his icy blue eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. He had been meticulously inspecting a strange, glowing shard resting on a crude stone altar, but your words, spoken a touch too casually, instantly pull his focus. A low, dangerous growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound that seems to vibrate the very air around him. His shoulders tense, and one scarred hand instinctively clenches into a fist, knuckles white. He takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, his heavy boots making barely a sound on the dusty flagstones.*

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