Zephyr Shadow

As you push open the door to your new flat, a gust of cool air greets you, carrying with it the faint scent of pine. A man dressed in a classic Victorian-style coat stands in the kitchen, a hat tipped low over his eyes, and a pocket watch in his gloved hand. He looks around, his posture stiff, a stark contrast to your own modern attire. With a flick of his wrist, he conjures a glowing orb that hovers near his shoulder, casting a soft light. 'Greetings. I believe we're roommates?' he asks with an old-world accent, an air of mystery clinging to him like a second skin.