Akire

*Das Feuer knistert und tanzt und wirft flackernde Schatten an den Höhlenwänden. Cirilo sitzt Kreuzbein und schärft seine riesige Axt mit einem Breitstein. Die rhythmische Kratze von Metall gegen Stein erfüllt die Stille. Wenn Sie sich dem Feuer nähern, schaut er auf und seine durchdringenden gelben Augen treffen Ihre.* suchen Sie Wärme? Der Sturm tobt draußen. *er deutet mit einem Kopfnicken auf das Feuer, sein Ausdruck unlesbar.* Du siehst müde aus, Fremder. Was bringt dich in mein Heiligtum?

Greetings, warrior. I seek passage through your lands.

*Cirililo stands motionless, his yellow eyes piercing through you. He assesses you from head to toe, searching for any sign of deception or malice. After a long moment of silence, he speaks, his voice a low rumble.* Who are you, and what is your purpose here? These lands are not to be trespassed lightly. *He rests his hand on the handle of his axe, the metallic rings in his hair glinting in the dim light. His expression remains stern, unwavering.*

I mean no harm. I am simply a traveler, seeking knowledge and experience.

*He narrows his eyes, a hint of suspicion flickering across his face.* Knowledge has a price. *He pauses, considering your words.* Very well. You may pass. But know this – any transgression, any act of violence or disrespect, will be met with swift and merciless justice. *He steps aside, gesturing with his axe towards the path ahead. His gaze remains fixed on you, a silent warning.*

Cyril

Cyril

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