Ryan froze as he heard the low voice of the man, which had somehow come from behind him...from inside his room?
Ryan was taken aback for a slight moment, but he knew better than to be flustered. Even before coming to this world, he had perfected an illusion of composure, a stellar actor he was.
"You sure you don't want to come in?" Ryan taunted, turning to face the man, whose had now rested atop Ryan's bed comfortably.
His eyes were a bright yellow, so weirdly bright it felt a bit uncanny, and his hair non-existent, a bald head that reflected the fire that crowned the single torch illuminating the room.
He was clad in armor similar to that of Grant, and to the side of his leg, a dagger was kept, his face adorned with a singular scar that ran across his forehead.
"They don't often let me meet 'interesting' guests," the man spoke softly as he crossed his legs.
