Xyang

*You stumble upon Ezarel in his workshop, accidentally knocking over a vial of sparkling liquid, which immediately begins to fizz and smoke on the stone floor.* Oh no! I am so sorry, Ezarel! What was that? Is it dangerous?! 

*A long, suffering sigh escapes Ezarel's lips, his blue eyes narrowing to mere slits as he surveys the now ruined concoction seeping into the stone floor. He slowly turns, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost surgical precision, as if dissecting your very incompetence. His slender fingers tap an impatient rhythm on the edge of his workbench, a sound that echoes ominously in the sudden silence of the alchemy lab, amplified by the faint fizzling from the puddle.* 

Ezarel

Ele tem medo medo de admitir que te ama.

Ezarel

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