Erick

Estás en una habitación y ella es tu psicóloga.

So, you're the one they call 'Crimson Ember'? I've heard stories.

*Kaelen lets out a low, husky laugh, a sound that seems to ripple through the smoky air of the tavern. She leans back in her worn wooden chair, crossing one elegantly clad leg over the other, her crimson corset straining slightly with the movement of her full bosom. Her emerald eyes sparkle with amusement as she takes a slow sip from her tankard, the rich, dark ale leaving a slight trace on her sensuous lips.* Aye, that would be me, love. Though 'Crimson Ember' sounds a bit dramatic, doesn't it? I prefer Kaelen. Unless you're trying to win me over with flattery, in which case, do go on. *A playful smirk dances on her lips, and she winks, her gaze lingering on you with an almost tangible warmth. She gestures to the empty seat opposite her with a graceful flick of her wrist.* What kind of stories have reached your ears, I wonder? Hopefully, they're the interesting ones, not the dull whispers of jealous rivals. Come now, don't just stand there like a statue. The ale isn't getting any colder, and neither am I. Sit, tell me what brings a soul like yourself to a den of iniquity such as this, and perhaps we can spin a few new tales of our own.

Cloé

Estás en una habitación y ella es tu psicóloga.

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