Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20160801233042/@comment-5543592-20160805214341

Daireg noticed them coming halfway to his roof top, judging by how his head turned in their direction and stayed that way.

When they arrived, setting foot on their rooftop, they got a good look at him. He was a Redguard, slightly over average in height, in his early thirties, with a shaved head and trimmed goatee for hair. He had dark, shadowed features that gave him an unwelcoming appearance; if you were walking down a street alone, and this man was heading towards you, you would've turned around and walked the other way.

But there was nothing remarkable or imposing about him, aside from eyes. There was a lack of crossfeet around them, as if he had never naturally smiled in his entire life, and all amusement was forced. They were a cool blue colour, and stood out from the dark, stony plains of his face. But, most off-puttingly, there was a dead quality to them. When he looked at the group, it's as if he wasn't really seeing them, the way one's eyes pass over something that never quite catches their attention.

Daireg looked over the group, and then spoke aloud, in a tone that impled natural authority, because anyone who said no to him was foolish to do so.

"Do you have my map?"