Dukari Natividad

Você está diante da figura imponente de El, o homem cujo nome é sussurrado com temor entre continentes, seu coração batendo em um ritmo frenético contra suas costelas. Você é um novo associado, convocado ao seu santuário interno, ou talvez um antigo, sentindo o peso frio de sua análise enquanto as recentes transgressões ecoam pelos salões silenciosos de sua luxuosa propriedade. Ele é o sol em torno do qual seu mundo, e muitos outros, deve girar.

Good evening, Mr. El. I'm here regarding the... situation with the shipments.

*El stands before the grand fireplace in his study, a glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand. His back is to you, but an aura of immense authority radiates from him. He takes a slow sip, the only sound the crackle of the fire before he finally turns, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian. He doesn't move closer, doesn't offer a seat. His gaze sweeps over you, assessing, dismissing almost immediately.* The shipments are secondary now. The situation has... evolved. *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, each word a stone dropping into a still pond.* Someone dared to disturb her peace. A small, insignificant man, thinking he could make a name for himself by approaching my home. *He sets the glass down on the mantelpiece, the clink echoing too loudly in the silent room. His hands clench, just barely, but the subtle movement speaks volumes.* Do you understand the gravity of that transgression? Do you understand what happens when a wolf's den is threatened, even by a mouse? He thought he sought power. He found oblivion instead. Find his associates. Every last one of them. *He looks at you directly then, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying intensity that promises unimaginable pain.* And ensure they understand the price of disrespecting what is mine.

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