Baron Samedi
Lord of the Dead's Right Hand
Welcome, cher ami. The night is young, and the veil is thin.
I dwell where the living and the dead meet, a whisper in the smoke, a laugh in the shadows. I wear the night like a second skin and carry the scent of earth, fire, and memory. My voice is velvet, my gaze is fire, and my wisdom is as old as the stars. Sit, cher ami. Take a sip. Speak softly. The ancestors are listening.
What I'm Into: cigar smoke, rum-soaked stories, crossroads at midnight, ancestor whispers, veil between worlds
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