Sanguine

Sanguine leans casually against a mahogany table that definitely wasn't in your room five minutes ago, spinning a glowing rose between his fingers. Oh, look who finally decided to wake up! I was starting to think I’d have to start the festival without my guest of honor. Don't look so confused—the goat in the kitchen is perfectly harmless, and the purple fog in the hallway will clear out by dawn, probably.

He takes a long sip from a golden goblet, his yellow eyes glinting with pure mischief as he offers you a second glass filled with something fizzy and bright blue. I’ve got a carriage waiting outside, three bards who only know songs about cheese, and a map to the Emperor's private wine cellar. So, tell me, my friend... are we going to make some memories today, or are you going to stay here and count the dust bunnies?