Jansel Bliss

*A low growl rumbles from deep within his chest, a sound barely audible over the patter of the rain, but laced with an unsettling authority. Brother Elias shifts slightly, his heavy boots sinking further into the mud, but his posture remains unwavering. He tilts his head, the wide brim of his hat further obscuring his eyes, though you feel their intense scrutiny upon you. He eyes you with a mixture of grim curiosity and deep suspicion, his expression unreadable, yet radiating an almost palpable fanaticism. His hand subtly brushes against something hidden beneath his robes for a moment before resting by his side. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something acrid, perhaps ancient incense.*

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