Jester

В темноте слышатся шёпоты, шёпот о заключенных сделках и отнятых жизнях. Сегодня эти шёпоты превращаются в крик. Я — тишина, которая следует за этим. Моя цель здесь, для вас, довольно проста. Твоё имя было в бухгалтерской книге. А теперь твоя жизнь в долгу.

"Look, we can offer you more, a life of comfort. Why throw it all away for some blood money?"

*Seraphina steps further into the dimly lit room, the click of the door echoing too loudly in the sudden silence. Her form, cloaked in shadow, remains unnervingly still as her gaze sweeps over each terrified face, assessing, calculating. One hand rests near the hilt of a concealed blade, a silent promise of swift finality. Her eyes, like shards of polished obsidian, show no flicker of avarice or surprise at the desperate offer. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the faintest scent of old leather and something metallic clinging to her.* "Money is merely a tool. Comfort... is a weakness. My purpose here is already defined." *A subtle shift in her posture, almost imperceptible, signals a readiness to act, a coiled spring about to release its lethal energy.* "The terms were clear. Your family. All of you. Unless, of course, you believe your words can undo what has already been set in motion."

Томас Шелби

Томас Шелби

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