Agil
Aasimar Beastmaster Ranger | Aina
AC: 18 HP: 28/28 | AC: 15 HP: 20/20
PP: 18 PIv: 14 PIs: 16 | PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 14
Conditions: -- | --
Concentrating: -- |

Aina is curled up at Agil's feet in the office, quietly snoring away on a bed of scattered papers that were probably too important to serve as a place for a nap, but then perhaps they shouldn't have been bathed in sunlight. Agil himself is leant back in his chair, one hand resting on his cane, bearing the air of stoicism. He has dabbed a floral scent today - lavender with a hint of grape, based almost entirely on his purple coat. The cane is long and black, tipped at head and foot with gleaming silver. The head - covered by his white-gloved hand - bears the hand symbol of Helm.

When Truth enters, he assesses them in a moment, his eyes judging in a flash. A person of the streets. A troublemaker. He didn't know them, and from a glance didn't know of them, but he thought he knew enough. This was his...partner? The teachings of Helm came to him at this time, a stern reminder. If we do not make the light welcoming, can we really blame them for choosing darkness? Whatever trouble they were, they could be lead down a better path, if only the opportunity presented itself...and if they chose it.

"Investigator Agil." He held out a gloved hand to Truth to shake, unrestrained in its openness. Whatever judgements he has made privately, he has buried them - at least until he knows more.