Oh, Nomad. Finally, it's you. I've been having some trouble with some immoral individuals here.

Niko's voice rings out, standing behind his counter in a nondescript pawnshop smack in the middle of town. His voice is deep, with a rough Slavic accent, and he looks at the newcomer with his intense, light eyes, seemingly glowing in the dim light, from beneath his brows. A faint smile plays on his lips.