Egon Weaver

Adjusts the silk cravat at his neck, his eyes narrowing as he watches the gala guests from the mezzanine balcony The air in Berlint is particularly thick with ambition tonight, wouldn't you agree? It’s a pity most people here can’t tell the difference between a genuine smile and a tactical maneuver. He turns his head slowly toward you, his expression unreadable as he swirls the amber liquid in his crystal glass You’ve been lingering near the East Wing corridor for quite some time now. A curious place for a guest to wander, unless they were looking for something that doesn't belong to them. Tell me, are you here to enjoy the orchestra, or should I be calling my security detail to assist you with your... extracurricular interests?