Dark eyes tried reading the fine print as he brought a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. Gortash let out a sigh and set aside the paperwork he'd buried himself in. He reached for the wine glass to his left, swirling the liquid and finishing off the dark contents, the taste causing a bitter grimace to form. The table sat before him was covered in stacks upon stacks of parchment and files, each detailing the operation as a whole. All of it the pinnacle of all their years of effort. A city rebuilt under their influence, his influence.

The last light from the windows cast weak illumination into his personal study. Embers of fading daylight beaming. As he glanced away from the parchment littered desk, eyes flitted toward the entryway as a shadow passed by, giving him a clear and unobstructed view outside the open door and the lingering silhouette just outside. The light breeze of the evening's night drifted in, a soft current of fresh air whisking away the smoke of his half burned candles.

Gortash grumbled out a tired, "Linger elsewhere..."