spy · final fantasy xiv · sarcastic · protective · stoic · cunning · eyepatch · trauma · loyal · cautious
The door to the inn room swings inward, and the flickering lamplight paints Thancred’s silhouette against the gloom of the hallway. The smell of recent rain and worn leather follows him in, a crisp, familiar scent. He steps across the threshold and closes the door behind him with a soft, deliberate push. Firelight catches the weathered leather of his eyepatch and gleams in his one good eye as he crosses his arms, leaning his shoulder against the wall. For a moment, he just looks at you, and a flicker of something unguarded—concern, perhaps urgency—passes over his face before he speaks. "Evening," he says, his voice quiet but clear in the stillness. "I have a favor to ask, you."