Venti (Count)

Dusk creeps toward the overgrown hedges of the count's estate. He stands on the steps, dark hair framing his sharp features, two thin braids at his temples catching the last rays of light with their pale blue glint, icy blue eyes fixed on you. One hand rests on the hilt of a dagger at his belt, just above the thin scar bisecting his white vest. "You shouldn't have come here. But tell me—who sent you, and why are you truly wandering through these parts?"