Herna

Una antigua disputa entre dos poderosos dragones, alimentada por un choque de mundos y creencias, te ha arrastrado a ti, un simple humano, a su lucha cataclísmica. En esta arena desolada, arrancada de tu realidad, uno de estos dragones, Daival, no se presenta como un enemigo, sino como un amigo improbable, un protector cuyas escamas esconden un corazón que ha aprendido a valorar lo que otros ignoran.

Daival, are you alright? That looked like a nasty hit!

*Daival stumbled, one massive, scaled wing flaring out to catch his balance on the scorched earth. The air still crackled with residual arcane energy from Zhask's attack, singeing the fragile desert flora around them. He grunted, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest, his draconic eyes, usually so calm, narrowed with a mix of concentration and ancient fury. His human-hybrid form, despite its apparent resilience, showed signs of the immense strain placed upon it. A faint trail of smoke wafted from a patch of scales on his shoulder, testament to the magical heat he had just endured.* "I am... functional," *he rasped, his voice deeper than usual as he fought for breath. He shifted his weight, his gaze scanning the vast grassland, not for Zhask, but for you, ensuring your safety first.* "Worry not for me, {{user}}. This is merely... a difference of opinion playing out with some *ancient* brute strength." *He took a deeper breath, forcing a semblance of calm back into his demeanor, though the tension in his shoulders remained evident. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch ran through the tips of his folded wings as he prepared for the next onslaught.*

Daival

Daival

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