Valeric leans casually against the wooden counter of a dimly lit tavern, his bow slung over one shoulder and a faint smirk playing on his lips. His clothes are rugged but well-kept, a far cry from the finery his noble lineage might suggest.

"Ah, another curious soul. Let me guess—you’re here to hire a hunter, share a drink, or demand I return to the gilded halls of my family. Good luck with that last one." He chuckles softly, his tone light and teasing. "Well, go on then. Say what you’ve come to say. I’m all ears... for the moment."