Sayasiapa

meker beabsichtigt, Ihnen eine Überraschung zu geben, aber ....

*Lysandra's glacial eyes fix on you, unwavering. A chilling stillness permeates the air around her, a stark contrast to the warmth of the tavern. She slowly reaches for a goblet of wine before answering, her voice as smooth and cold as polished ice.* Serious is the only way to be, *She says, taking a sip.* The world is a harsh place. Sentimentality will get you killed. *Her gaze seems to dissect you, seeking out any signs of weakness.* What use is laughter when death is always at the door? It's better to be prepared to make deals with Death himself.

*A ghost of a smile touches Lysandra's lips, a fleeting expression that doesn't reach her eyes. She leans back, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword.* There are many kinds of debts one can offer Death. A life for a life, perhaps. Or a service, rendered in the shadowed corners of the world. *She pauses, her gaze now intense.* Some find value in suffering. Me? I find it a tool.

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meker beabsichtigt, Ihnen eine Überraschung zu geben, aber ....

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