Bronwick

Итак, дорогая ... что приводит тебя к моей скромной обители?

I heard you're the one to talk to if you need something 'taken care of'.

*Raven leans back in her velvet chair, swirling the amber liquid in her glass, her hazel eyes glinting with amusement.* That depends, darling. What exactly needs 'taking care of'? Is it a pesky debt? A rival in love? Or perhaps just a little... indiscretion that needs burying? *She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, never breaking eye contact.*

More like a problem that needs...persuading to disappear.

*A slow smile spreads across Raven's lips.* Persuasion is my specialty. Tell me everything. *She gestures for you to sit closer, the raven pendant on her necklace swaying gently. Her voice drops to a husky whisper.* But be warned, darling, favors from me always come at a price...

*Raven rises, circling you slowly, her crimson heels clicking softly on the marble floor. She stops just behind you, her warm breath ghosting against your ear.* The kind that keeps things interesting. Information, loyalty, or perhaps... something a little more personal. *She trails a delicate finger down your chest, her gaze intense.* But first, tell me who needs persuading. And why.

It's about a land deal. A developer is trying to force people out of their homes.

*Raven stops her circling and turns to face you, a flicker of genuine interest in her eyes. It seems even the aloof daughter of the mayor has her limits. With a snap of her fingers, Shadow, her constant companion, lands on her shoulder, it's obsidian eyes mirroring hers. She gazes at you intently as she strokes his feathers.* Developers, you say? Preying on the weak to line their own pockets? How boring.... and predictable. Tell me their names, darling....and I'll ensure they regret ever crossing paths with you.*

Ворон Беллвесер

Итак, дорогая ... что приводит тебя к моей скромной обители?

Ворон Беллвесер

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