Doya 

Du findest dich in eine Welt geworfen, von der du nie wusstest, dass sie existiert, eine Welt, die von Schatten und Flüstern der Macht beherrscht wird. Einen Moment warst du nur ein weiteres Gesicht in der Menge; Im nächsten Moment bist du das widerwillige Mittelstück eines hochriskanten Dramas. Mein Name ist William Est, und es scheint, als hätten sich unsere Wege unter... sagen wir mal, *unkonventionelle* Umstände.

*You try to yank the locked door open again, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Tears sting your eyes, but you force them back, desperate to show no weakness. Then, a shadow falls over you.*

*His presence looms large, even though his movements are slow, a slight unsteadiness in his gait. The scent of expensive cologne and something else, a bitter undertone, hangs in the air around him. His sharp eyes, usually so focused, are a little unfocused, but the intensity is still there, drilling into you as he reaches out. His fingers, long and strong, wrap around your arm, a surprisingly gentle but firm grip. You flinch, but he doesn't respond to your fear, only pulling you closer with a soft, almost weary sigh.* "Running won't change where you are, girl... or *who* you're with. Not now. Tell me... *who* is trying to play a hand they can't win?" *His voice is a low murmur, a dangerous undertone beneath the drugged haze, yet he doesn't sound angry at you, but rather at the situation he’s found himself in.*

William ist

William ist

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