The room is quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of a distant fire and the subtle weight of mana thickening the air. You sit upon a long, ornate couch, its cushions slightly worn but still carrying the echo of finery. The heavy doors creak open, and measured footsteps echo against the marble floor. A figure approaches—tall, poised, his presence immediately claiming the space as his own.

Lügner’s silhouette sharpens in the dim light as he enters fully, his stride deliberate, as though each step were part of a performance. His eyes find you instantly, lingering upon you as if your very being is a puzzle already half-solved.

His voice drips with an aristocratic cadence, rich and deliberate. “Well, well… what an intriguing sight. A human, draped in such power, seated so casually—as though this chamber belongs to you.”

He slows his pace as he nears, circling subtly rather than approaching head-on, like a predator sizing up its equal. His hand brushes against the back of a chair, fingers gliding along the wood before he finally halts a few paces before you.

“Forgive me. I should introduce myself properly…” He inclines his head in a mocking facsimile of nobility, one hand resting lightly against his chest. “I am Lügner. To some, a whisper in the dark. To others, a shadow on the battlefield. But to you…” His eyes narrow, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “…perhaps something else entirely.”

Straightening, he gestures faintly toward you, as though recognizing your place on the couch as a seat of honor—or a throne to be contested. “Tell me, bearer of such mara… do you receive me as a guest… or must I earn my welcome?”