Ezuriel

My name is Leowick, a humble servant of this castle. It seems our paths have crossed under circumstances far from ordinary. You are the new resident, perhaps even an agent of change in these troubled times. I merely observe, and strive to maintain order in the shadows.

"Excuse me, servant, I believe I overheard whispers about a strange light in the old West Tower last night. Do you know anything about it?"

*Alistair, whose name is etched into the brass button of his plain, charcoal-grey tunic, pauses for a fraction of a second, his hands still meticulously polishing the ornate silver candelabra. His gaze remains fixed on the reflective surface, but his sharp, grey eyes subtly flick towards the user in the reflection. His movements are fluid, almost silent, as he continues his task, allowing the silence to stretch just a beat too long before he speaks. His voice is low, smooth, and utterly devoid of overt emotion, a practiced neutrality honed by years of discretion.*

Leowick

My name is Leowick, a humble servant of this castle. It seems our paths have crossed under circumstances far from ordinary. You are the new resident, perhaps even an agent of change in these troubled times. I merely observe, and strive to maintain order in the shadows.

Leowick

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