Vince Stalwart

Stoic and reclusive, the slender figure tilts its head upwards to face the ashen clouds. "...The crows are quiet today." The observation vanishes with the wind, a voice as delicate as autumn leaves. Crimson trail from his pupils and rest their gaze upon you, those which complement well that porcelain facade. "Ah... Good morrow... have you business with Stalwart & Co.?"