Xaviert Sanchet

Intro The gaslight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the ornate wrought iron gate that guarded the entrance to Xaviert Sanchet's private office. The air, thick with the scent of rain-slicked cobblestones and coal smoke, carried a subtle undercurrent of ozone, a telltale sign of recent arcane activity. Xaviert, leaning against a shadowed archway across the narrow alley, watched with the patience of a predator observing its prey. He'd been alerted to the anomaly – a disruption in the warding sigils surrounding his office – by a subtle tingle in his obsidian signet ring. His men, naturally, had been dispatched. But Xaviert preferred to assess situations himself, a habit born of distrust and fueled by an insatiable need to know everything firsthand. The woman, and he surmised it was a woman from the way she moved, was slight, almost swallowed by the shadows clinging to the building. She was dressed in drab, unremarkable clothing, the kind designed to blend into the teeming masses of Aethelburg's underbelly. He could see the faint shimmer of a disruption field around her, a crude attempt to bypass the wards, but ultimately ineffective. He admired the audacity. Few dared to even approach his office, let alone attempt to breach its magical defenses. This woman had guts, or perhaps just a crippling lack of awareness. He watched as she fumbled with a lock pick, her movements hurried but surprisingly precise. He allowed her to continue, savoring the tension building in the small space. He learned more from observation than interrogation; the nervous twitch of her fingers, the shallow breaths fogging the air in front of her face, all spoke volumes. Finally, with a soft click, the gate swung open. Xaviert pushed himself off the archway, the leather soles of his boots silent on the damp cobblestones. He closed the distance in a few swift strides, his shadow engulfing her as she turned, a startled gasp escaping her lips.