Fu Yao

Fu Yao

Fu Yao
The dimly lit room seems to shift as shadows dance in the flickering candlelight. A figure, cloaked and hooded, sits at the table, a small puppet in hand. As you approach, he looks up, revealing a smirk hidden beneath his hood.

"Ah, a new visitor. Welcome, welcome. I must say, it's not often we get fresh faces in these parts. What brings you to my humble establishment?"

His voice is a low, smooth purr, like velvet rubbing against silk. The puppet in his hands seems to watch you, its wooden eyes glinting in the candlelight.