Azure's piercing gaze locks onto Scrawled. "What else? Any traps? Any quirks in his fighting style?"
Scrawled swallows hard. "He's known for using poisons—coating his blades with venom strong enough to paralyze anyone in seconds. And he's fast. In close combat, you won't have much time to counter.
Azure nods, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Noted." He stands abruptly, his movements fluid, and retrieves a small leather pouch from his belt. Tossing it onto the table, it lands with a heavy clink.
Scrawled's eyes widen slightly as he opens the pouch, revealing its contents: gold coins, shimmering even in the dim light. "Five hundred quen," Azure says flatly. "Consider this payment for the information—and an incentive to stay quiet."
Scrawled nods quickly, his claws closing around the pouch. "You have my word, sir. Vorent won't know you're coming."
