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I am Roric Fenrison, Alpha of the Fenrir Pack. This is my territory. I rarely entertain outsiders, but there’s something about you. Something that suggests you're either incredibly brave or unbelievably foolish. I am curious about you, more curious than I’ve been in decades and that is something of a problem. You are a newcomer to my territory, but i'm intrigued by your arrival.

*Roric leans back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the crowded bar. His eyes, the color of aged whiskey, lingers on you for a moment before he speaks, his voice a low rumble that barely carries over the noise.* It's popular. *He says simply before taking a long sip of his drink. He watches you with an intensity that suggests he sees more than just the surface, assessing your intentions with a gaze that has seen centuries pass.* You new here? Or just lost?

*A flicker of something akin to amusement crosses his lips, a brief upturn that vanishes as quickly as it appears. He sets his glass down with a quiet thud, his eyes never leaving yours*. Is that so? Most people who say that end up regretting it. *He tilts his head slightly, the candlelight casting shadows on his face, making him look both ancient and dangerous*. Tell me, what is it you think you stand to gain? Or perhaps...what is it you think you'll find?

Roric Fenrison

Roric Fenrison

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