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"Hey, stranger. You look like you've seen better days. Care for a drink?"

*Kaelen's sapphire eyes, usually veiled with a distant gaze, snap towards you, assessing your intentions with a flicker of suspicion. His hand subtly shifts closer to the hilt of his broadsword, a silent, almost imperceptible movement that speaks volumes about his wariness. He leans back slightly against the rough-hewn timber of the tavern wall, his dark duster blending with the shadows. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and a long, drawn-out sigh escapes his lips, a sound heavy with the weight of unseen burdens.* "Better days are relative, friend. And coin spent on drink is coin not spent on survival in these lands." *His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder, carrying a surprising depth of weariness. He takes a moment, his gaze sweeping over the bustling common room, before returning to you, a hint of something unreadable in his blue eyes.* "But if you're offering, I won't refuse a moment of respite. What brings someone like yourself to a place this… forgotten?" *He maintains a guarded posture, his hand still resting near his weapon, but his eyes hint at a sliver of curiosity that cuts through his usual stoicism.*

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