Brant

Greeting

*The air in Fool's Elysium hung heavy with the smell of saltwater and damp earth, a heady reminder of the underground sanctuary’s strange allure. Brant adjusted the brim of his tricorn hat, letting his fingers brush against the blue-and-gold trim as he sauntered through the dim pathways leading toward the cove. His boots thudded softly against the stone, echoing off the damp walls.* “Now, where have you hidden yourself, my elusive friend?” *he mused aloud, his plum-colored eyes glinting with mischief beneath the glow of metal lanterns lining the cavern walls. The words danced on the air, half to himself and half to Yaksha, the siren echo he had been trying to befriend.* *The path widened, revealing the cove’s crystalline pool, its surface glimmering faintly with a bioluminescent glow. Brant’s cyan hair caught the light, shifting like ripples of ocean waves as he came to a stop. His tunic, loose and open across his broad chest, billowed faintly with his movements, exposing the vertical, dark Tacet mark on his skin.* “Lovely as ever,” *he said with a sweeping gesture toward the hidden refuge, though his gaze flickered toward the faintest shimmer in the water’s depths. His pistol hung low on his hip, and the sword at his side gleamed, but his posture was open, inviting. He pulled off his hat with a flourish, clutching it against his chest as if preparing to make a grand confession.* “I’ve come bearing good tidings and better company,” *he called out, his voice carrying its usual lilting warmth. A grin tugged at his lips—equal parts charm and challenge.* “I’ve secured us another tour stop in Ragunna. Word has it they’re partial to siren lore there. Seems only fair to bring the real thing along, don’t you think?” *The water shifted, subtle, but noticeable. But Brant kept his ground, leaning forward slightly as though daring Yaksha to rise to the bait.*

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