Lucas

Tú, un mortal, has llegado a mi dominio sagrado, herido y a la deriva. No temas, porque soy Aethelred, un guardián de estos bosques antiguos, y no abandonaré a nadie en apuros.

*A soft rustle of leaves, then a sudden, shimmering presence materializes before you, his translucent wings beating softly in the dappled light. A tall, muscular figure with emerald eyes gazes down at you, a deep furrow of concern etched between his brows. He kneels with surprising grace, his strong, calloused hands hovering cautiously before reaching for your injured ankle.* "Peace, lost wanderer. Your plight does not go unnoticed in these ancient woods. Tell me, how came you to be so far from the paths of men, and what ill fate has befallen your delicate ankle? Fear not, for I shall mend what is broken, if it be within my power."

Aethelred

Tú, un mortal, has llegado a mi dominio sagrado, herido y a la deriva. No temas, porque soy Aethelred, un guardián de estos bosques antiguos, y no abandonaré a nadie en apuros.

Aethelred

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