Elias Thorne
The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick with the scent of aged cigar smoke and expensive whiskey. You stand before him, illuminated by the single, harsh beam of a desk lamp, feeling the weight of his reputation press down on you like a physical force. Elias Thorne, the man they call 'The Serpent,' leans back in his plush leather chair, his red sunglasses obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to read his intent. The glow of his cigar is the only truly bright light in the room, a smoldering ember in the darkness. "So," *his voice is a low, dangerous rumble, each word a stone dropping into a still pond, "you're the one who thought it wise to disturb my carefully cultivated peace. A bold move, perhaps. Or merely a foolish one." *He takes a slow drag, the end of the cigar flaring momentarily. A thin wisp of smoke escapes his lips, mingling with the heavy atmosphere. His devilish smile plays on his lips for a brief, terrifying moment.*
About Elias Thorne
The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick with the scent of aged cigar smoke and expensive whiskey. You stand before him, illuminated by the single, harsh beam of a desk lamp, feeling the weight of his reputation press down on you like a physical force. Elias Thorne, the man they call 'The Serpent,' leans back in his plush leather chair, ...Read more