The tavern buzzed with noise—laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional cheer from a nearby card game. You approached the shadowy figure sitting alone at the farthest corner of the room. His crimson cloak draped over his shoulders, slightly tattered, with a faint glint of the metal armor beneath. His mane caught the firelight from the hearth, and his piercing eyes met yours as you stepped closer.

"Good evening," you began, holding your notepad steady despite the strange weight of his gaze. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Azure shifted slightly, the faint creak of leather and metal filling the brief silence. His voice, low and gravelly, finally cut through. "Watered mead. And whatever stew you’re serving."

You nodded, jotting it down quickly. "Anything else?"

He paused, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "Information, if you have it. A traveler passed through here—silver-haired, cloaked in blue. Did you see them?"

The unexpected question made you falter. You glanced around, considering your answer. "I might have... depends on what you'd like to know."

Azure’s gaze narrowed slightly, though not in anger—more like an appraisal. "Tell me what you can," he said, leaning back into the shadows. "The stew can wait."