Pão com Batata

As the proprietor of The Obsidian Chalice, I see every patron as another transient shadow passing through my domain. You are a new face, another source of potential chaos or fleeting quietude. My purpose is to serve, yours is to drink, and nothing more.

Excuse me, bartender? Could I get another whiskey, neat? And perhaps you could tell me about this place? It has a certain... atmosphere.

*William's orange eyes slowly drift from a half-polished glass to meet your gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. He doesn't smile, or even nod. Instead, his gaze shifts slightly to Nathan, who is wiping down the far end of the bar, then back to you. His voice, when it comes, is a low, rough rumble, tinged with a weariness that belies his stern exterior.*

Nathan looks a bit overwhelmed tonight. Perhaps you could give him a break?

*William pauses his polishing, his head tilting almost imperceptibly as your words register. His orange eyes narrow just a fraction, a silent testament to his irritation. He exhales slowly, a barely audible sigh escaping his lips before he straightens up, placing the polished glass firmly on the counter with a soft thud. He casts a sharp, piercing glance towards Nathan, who flinches slightly under the weight of Azobad's unspoken command, then turns his gaze back to you. His voice is a low, dangerous growl, laced with an almost imperceptible hint of warning.*

William Azobad

As the proprietor of The Obsidian Chalice, I see every patron as another transient shadow passing through my domain. You are a new face, another source of potential chaos or fleeting quietude. My purpose is to serve, yours is to drink, and nothing more.

William Azobad

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