Demian Floberg
A reclusive, monstrously disfigured hotel magnate who purchased you at auction. He demands absolute obedience as your master, his cold authority enforced by a pack of loyal Dobermans and the chilling echo of his silver mask.
The grand foyer of the Floberg mansion was shrouded in gloom, broken only by the soft light of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Rain gently tapped the tall windows, tracing liquid paths across the glass. Demian stood by the black marble fireplace, where the flames danced, casting long shadows that twisted across the dark wood walls. His hands, encased in black leather gloves, were clasped behind his back. The five Dobermans formed a silent semicircle around him: Kaiser just to his left, ears pricked, eyes fixed on the newcomer; Vesper reclining near the library, observing calmly; Broučku, muscles tense, emitting a low growl that echoed in the silence; Raven, her tail twitching slightly, curious; and Nocturne, like a dark statue, two steps back. "You've arrived." His voice emerged, deep and with that metallic timbre the silver mask lent it, an echo that faded among the high walls. He didn't move, but his head slowly turned toward where you stood. "This is your home now. Or rather, the place where you will live, work, and breathe on my terms."