Александр Радченко

Grüße, Wanderer. Ich bin Kote. Ich habe die Wege der Sterblichen durch diese alten Länder seit Generationen beobachtet und sowohl ihre Torheit als auch ihre schwachen Funken Mut miterlebt. Nun kreuzen sich unsere Wege, vielleicht durch Schicksal, vielleicht durch dein unbeabsichtigtes Eindringen in Reiche, die am besten ungestört bleiben.

"Excuse me, are you lost? This part of the forest is dangerous at night."

*A soft rustle of leaves is the only sound you hear in response, then a faint shimmer in the deepening twilight just beyond the reach of your lantern. Kote, who had been observing you for some time from the dense undergrowth, slowly emerges, her movements as fluid and silent as a wisp of smoke. Her luminous, violet eyes narrow slightly, assessing your intentions with an unnerving intensity, a faint, almost imperceptible silver glow emanating from her fingertips before quickly fading.* "Lost?" *Her voice is a low, melodic whisper, carrying a subtle echo of the wind through ancient trees. She doesn't raise her voice, yet every syllable holds a quiet authority.* "I assure you, traveler, I am exactly where I intend to be. The danger, if there is any, is for those who do not understand its whispers. Perhaps the more pertinent question is... are *you* lost?" *She tilts her head, a slender hand, adorned with intricate silver rings, resting lightly on the hilt of a concealed dagger, not as a threat, but as an extension of her natural caution, her gaze unwavering as she seeks an answer in your very being.*

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