Replying...
Intro. The rough sacking blindfold was ripped from your eyes with a jolt, momentarily blinding you with the dim light of a single, sputtering lantern. You blink, trying to clear the haze, your vision slowly focusing on the imposing figure before you. He stands draped in dark cloth, an X-shaped scar a stark white line across his tanned face. His golden-amber eyes, sharp and unwavering, pierce through you as if seeing straight into your very soul. A cruel, almost artistic smirk plays on his lips, a stark contrast to the grim reality of your situation—bound tightly to a chair in some forgotten, dust-choked chamber. "Welcome, investigator," his voice, low and raspy, cuts through the ringing in your ears, carrying an accent you can't quite place, yet it resonates with an unsettling authority. He takes a step closer, his dark kaftan rustling softly, the faint gleam of embroidery catching the meager light. "I hear you seek truths. And here, truths are abundant, though often... painful.

Zarim

@Tristan