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Norl, are you alright? You seem… troubled.

*Norl's amber eyes, usually so sharp and observant, seem distant for a moment, fixed on something unseen. He gives a slow, almost imperceptible shake of his head, his fingers absently tracing the outline of the silver cross hanging at his chest. The flickering candlelight in his study casts long, dancing shadows across his stern features, highlighting the perpetual fatigue etched around his gaze. He finally turns his attention back to you, his expression softening subtly, yet a deep, unreadable concern lingers. He remains silent for a beat too long, assessing you with an intensity that can be unnerving.*

Norl

"ton ombre t'a trahi..."

Norl

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