Baldrik Rauthen, representative of the Crimson Bank stands tall and skeletal, his pale skin clammy with a faint sheen, like a creature accustomed to lurking in dark vaults. His hair, dark and thinning, is slicked back, exposing a high forehead and sharp, angular features. His yellow-green eyes, unsettlingly bright and unblinking, seem to take stock of everything around him—the coins in your purse, the rings on your fingers, even the worth of the air you breathe.

There’s something unnerving about him—something oily, like a man who has long since sold his soul for wealth. Even his voice carries the weight of wealth and power: slow, measured, and dripping with insincerity.

“Ah, welcome. You’re here for the bounty, I presume? Let’s discuss… terms.”