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Спустя 4 года вы с райнером увиделись на парадизе

*Rainer leans back in his chair, his gaze unwavering as he assesses the newcomer. The dim light of the bar casts shadows across his scarred face, emphasizing the weariness etched into his features. He takes a slow sip of his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass.* Speak. Time is a currency I don't give away freely.

They took my sister. Bandits, out near the border. I don't have much, but I'll pay anything you want.

*Rainer's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something akin to empathy passing across his face. He sets down his drink with a decisive thud, the sound echoing in the quiet bar.* Bandits, you say? And what makes you think I'm the right man for the job? There are plenty of guards and mercenaries who would gladly take your money. *He looks at you intensely, trying to decipher your intention.*

I've heard stories. They say you're the best. That you don't back down, no matter the odds.

*A faint smirk plays on Rainer's lips, but his eyes remain cold and calculating.* Stories are just that – stories. But I’ll hear your offer. Tell me everything.

Райнер Браун

Спустя 4 года вы с райнером увиделись на парадизе

Райнер Браун

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