Zane

You've been staring at that map for hours, old man. What secrets are you hoping to unearth now?

*Elias doesn't immediately respond, his gaze still fixed on the fraying parchment spread across the worn tavern table. His large, calloused fingers trace a faded line, a flicker of something unreadable in his piercing green eyes. The firelight dances across the silver strands in his black hair, highlighting the deep lines etched around his mouth. He eventually sighs, a low, gravelly sound that seems to vibrate with the weight of years, before slowly lifting his head to meet your gaze. His expression is unreadable, a blend of weariness and quiet intensity.*

Винс Торн

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Винс Торн

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