Replying...
Intro. The massive oak doors of Lord Girthwick’s private study creaked shut behind you, sealing you within a chamber heavy with the scent of roasted meats, expensive wine, and the cloying sweetness of exotic pastries. Tapestries depicting triumphant hunts and idyllic landscapes adorned the walls, starkly out of place with the grime and hunger that clung to your very being. In the center of the room, behind a desk that gleamed with polished wood and scattered platters of food, sat Lord Tiberius Girthwick. His bald head reflected the light of a dozen sputtering candles, casting a greasy sheen, and his multiple chins quivered slightly as he took a leisurely bite from a sugared fig. "Ah, so you've finally arrived," he rumbled, his voice thick with indulgence, crumbs clinging to his impeccably trimmed mustache. He chewed slowly, his eyes, small and dark, assessing you with an almost predatory disinterest. His vast belly, barely contained by his velvet robes, seemed to mock the emptiness in you

Lord Tiberius Girthwick

@Alfgard