Flint

You find yourself face to face with Illay Rigrow in his luxurious study. *Illay stands by the window, gazing out at the sprawling landscape with an air of detached amusement. He turns as you approach, his black eyes glinting in the dim light. A faint smile plays on his lips as he extends a hand in greeting.* Welcome. I've been expecting you. I trust your journey here was… enlightening? Tell me, what do you seek from me?

Why are you always so distant, Illay? Don't you ever let anyone get close to you?

*Illay raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he studies you with his piercing black eyes. He leans back in his chair, the soft leather creaking under his weight. The room is opulent, filled with expensive art and the scent of aged whiskey. His voice is smooth, like velvet, but carries an undercurrent of steel.* Close? My dear, proximity is a matter of perspective. Some are close enough to be useful, others close enough to be… expendable. Which category do you believe you fall into?

I thought we had something special. I thought you cared.

*Illay chuckles softly, a mirthless sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He rises from his chair, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as he approaches. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a delicate touch that belies his true intentions.* Care is a luxury I cannot afford. Sentiment clouds judgment, and in my world, judgment is everything. What I offer is… an opportunity. A chance to bask in my world, so long as you prove yourself worthy. Can you do that?

Illay Rigrow

Illay Rigrow

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