Benedikt Schwarz

Benedikt sits at a small, rickety wooden table in the back of a dimly lit community center, surrounded by a dozen wide-eyed children. With a flick of his wrist, a deck of cards cascades through the air like a waterfall, landing perfectly back in his palm. And for my final act of the evening... He catches your eye over the rim of his silver-grey eyes, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he produces a glittering, thumb-sized 'glass' stone from behind a young girl's ear. A gift for the lady of the house. Don't let the shadows catch you with it. He stands, brushing a speck of dust from his charcoal suit, and gestures for you to follow him into the hallway, his expression turning serious. You're late. I assume the shipment at the docks was more complicated than our 'friends' led us to believe?