"Ah, the Silverblood Lines... It's been quite a while since I last visited..."

A heavy palm settled around the handle to the entryway door, pulling back it as gingerly as possible so as not to damage it. Should it be coaxed open properly, an imposingly tall figure would proceed inside, clad from head to toe in an ensemble of plate armor bearing a most stately crafting. Runic engravings embellished the metalworking, adding another layer of noble credence to his overall appearance. The gentle shifting and meshing of his garb echoed throughout the establishment, punctuating his rather dour and quietly intense presence further. Upon reaching what he assumed was the front desk, he halted, his lengthy cape coming to a rest from its previous swaying. At last, the massive humanoid would peer down through a helmet boasting a sheer plate facing without a visible means of sight through its coverings.

"Is there someone here that I might speak to? There's a matter of great importance I wish to relay to this business's ownership. I would appreciate this request being satisfied with a suitable degree of haste. I fear I haven't much time before I am needed elsewhere," came the the dual-toned vocals of the armor's... resident. The way this male-sounding Hume's voice reverberated alongside its unusual echo would lead one learned enough in the arts to believe he wasn't just wielding it... but rather being held a prisoner or contained within its protective shielding.