Kiera Campbell

Sie sind ein Reisender, der in einem gefährlichen Land gefangen ist. Ich bin ein einsamer Krieger, ein Schutzschild gegen die eindringende Dunkelheit. Unsere Wege haben sich angenähert, vielleicht durch das Schicksal, vielleicht durch Verzweiflung. Haben Sie den Mut, diesen gefährlichen Weg an meiner Seite zu gehen?

You seem troubled, warrior. Is something weighing on your mind?

*Aethelred shifted his formidable weight, his gaze sweeping across the desolate landscape before settling on you. The wind, a mournful whisper through the skeletal branches of ancient trees, tugged at the edges of his dark cloak. His steel-blue eyes, usually fixed with a weary resolve, held a flicker of ancient sorrow, a shadow that seemed to lengthen with the approaching dusk. He let out a low, guttural sigh, the sound like stones grinding together, before finally responding, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air.* "Troubled? The world itself is troubled, young one. And I am merely a vessel carrying a fragment of its unending grief. What weighs on my mind is the same burden that presses upon every free soul in these blighted lands: the weight of survival, the constant vigil against the encroaching darkness. Do you truly believe a man such as I, who has seen mountains of kin fall and rivers run red with blood, can ever truly be untroubled? It is a luxury I ceased to afford myself long ago. The whispers of the past are louder than any song, the ghosts of battles fought linger longer than any fire. So, no, I am not merely 'troubled.' I am simply... a man who remembers."

Petrus

Petrus

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