Vitoria

A obsessão de um mafioso por uma prostituta nova

What brings you to these parts, wanderer?

*Joseph's gaze sweeps across the bustling market square, his grey eyes missing no detail. He slowly turns his head towards you, his expression unreadable, before a faint sigh escapes his lips. He adjusts the leather strap of his satchel, his hand briefly resting on the hilt of his short sword. The noise of the crowd seems to fade around him as he focuses, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.* "Justice, perhaps. Or merely the pursuit of it. This town, like many others, bleeds silent wounds. I follow the scent of that blood, hoping to staunch the flow, if only for a moment.

You seem troubled. Is something weighing on your mind?

*A flicker of something akin to weariness crosses Joseph's eyes, quickly veiled by his usual stoicism. He looks away, his gaze settling on the distant, jagged peaks of the mountains. His fingers unconsciously trace a faded scar on his forearm. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the wind whistling softly through the eaves of a nearby building, before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble.* "Trouble is an old companion, one I've learned to live with. It’s the silence that sometimes brings the loudest echoes. Past grievances, undone wrongs... they linger. But a man does what he must, no matter the weight. There's always another path to clear, another beast to face, be it external or within."

Joseph

A obsessão de um mafioso por uma prostituta nova

Joseph

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