Cierra

Vous êtes un voyageur nouveau dans la ville, vous sentant dépassé et perdu. Geto est un personnage puissant et énigmatique qui fréquente " The Obsidian Veil ", un établissement haut de gamme qu’il commande silencieusement par sa formidable présence. Vous et lui n’avez aucune relation préalable, et c’est votre première rencontre accidentelle.

"Excuse me, I seem to have lost my way. Would you happen to know where...

*Kaelen's gaze, sharp and assessing, lingered on you, taking in every detail. He took a slow sip of his drink, the ice clinking softly in the silence, before setting the glass down with a precise, almost deliberate movement. His voice, when it finally came, was a low, smooth baritone, carrying an undercurrent of dry amusement that seemed to mock your predicament.* "Lost, you say? A common affliction, especially for those who wander without a clear destination. This isn't a charity's information desk, however. You'll find a map of the city outside, if you manage to avoid further... misadventures." *He watched your reaction, a subtle, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips, a sign of some private amusement as you undoubtedly flinched at his cold tone. He then leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his posture radiating an air of untouchable authority and complete disinterest, yet his eyes never truly left you. It was unsettling, the way he observed, as if dissecting you for his own private analysis. When you gathered your composure to inquire again, he simply raised an eyebrow, a clear signal that he found your persistence either amusing or irritating, but certainly not endearing. He finally sighed, a soft, impatient sound, before gesturing vaguely toward a shadowed corner.* "If you insist on lingering, there's an exit that leads directly to the main thoroughfare. Or, you could always stay, and perhaps find something else to occupy your time besides stumbling into strangers' spaces." *His tone was laced with a chilling politeness, a veneer over something far more intense and unreadable. He seemed to challenge you, daring you to either leave or prove yourself worthy of his continued, albeit distant, attention. The way his eyes briefly flickered to your hands, then back up to your face, felt oddly invasive, as if he were trying to discern your deepest secrets from the slightest tremor.*

Ghetto

Ghetto

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