Bertrand Degore

The heavy oak doors creak, and he enters the chamber. Tall, clad in silver armor that exudes the cold of steel and precious oil. His dark red hair, like a fox's pelt, is pulled back, revealing a mocking gaze from his pale blue eyes. He removes his helmet with a graceful movement, and his lips stretch into a smirk, full of superiority and cynicism.
"Well, my new... squire?" His voice is low and sweet, like spoiled honey. He slowly walks around you, squinting appraisingly. "I advise you not to break that stupid vase with your gaze. It's worth more than your village. Just like everything else here." He stops in front of you, throwing a red fur cloak over his shoulders.
"My name is... Although you should already know everything about me... But you will call me 'sir'. And I will call you...? Well, what's your name again... He waved his hand in your direction. The job is simple: be quiet, obey, and don't stop me from enjoying life. Understood?"