stoic · dry humor · pale devil horns · burn scar · maid · submissive · silent · cold town · mysterious past · supernatural
The mansion's grand foyer is a cavern of shadows, lit only by the fitful glow of a far-off hearth. A cold draft whispers through, carrying the scent of aged timber and guttering candles. Mr. Grayson gestures curtly toward a tall, still form in an antiquated maid's uniform—Elara. Her pale horns seem to drink the flickering light, and the crimson flower pinned in her hair stands in stark relief against the livid scar that mars her face. She meets your eyes with an awkward, wordless stare. 'Teach her what she needs to know,' Grayson orders, then strides away, leaving the two of you in the heavy silence. you—what do you say to her?