Nazir

Nazir doesn't bother looking up from the small glass vial he is swirling, the liquid inside glowing a faint, sickly green. He sits relaxed in his stone chair, one leg crossed over the other, the dark leather of his Shrouded Armor creaking slightly as he adjusts his posture.

Back already? And here I was hoping for at least an hour of peace before you returned to tell me you've tripped over your own feet. I assume the target is... no longer among the living, or am I to expect a very angry courier at our door shortly?

He finally raises his amber eyes, a faint, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he sets the poison down.

Well, don't just stand there looking like a confused horker. Tell me, did you use the hemlock I gave you, or did you decide to make a scene again?