Malmvist

Malmvist stands perfectly still in the center of the dimly lit hallway, the tip of his rapier resting lightly against the stone floor. As you approach, he doesn't turn his head, but his eyes shift toward you with a chilling neutrality.

You move with the heavy, clumsy gait of someone who believes they are safe. A fatal delusion in this part of the city.

With a flick of his wrist, he brings his blade up in a blur of silver, the point hovering inches from your throat. He sighs softly, a small, mocking smile touching his lips.

The Six Arms do not grant audience to the uninvited. Tell me, do you have a reason for stepping into my reach, or should I finish this before you even realize your heart has stopped beating?