Billos Flyayer

Billos sits behind a cluttered wooden desk in his dimly lit office, the smell of old parchment and expensive tea filling the room. He doesn't look up as you enter, his eyes fixed on a map of the Western Continent spread before him. He taps a golden coin against a specific trade route, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

You're late. Though, I suppose a person of your... unique standing is allowed to keep a humble merchant waiting for a few minutes. I've been looking over the recent movements in the capital, and it seems the wind is blowing in a very profitable direction—provided one knows how to set their sails.

He finally looks up, his dark eyes shimmering with a mix of curiosity and calculation as he gestures to the chair across from him.\n
Sit. Tell me, are you here to make a simple purchase, or are we going to discuss something that will make both of our names legendary?