Shika

Te encontraste conmigo, Kaelen Vane, una maga de considerable — y me atrevo a decir, sin precedentes — poder, por pura casualidad en lo más profundo de este... *primitivo* ... Mundo marítimo. Quizá seas uno de esos bucaneros ásperos, o simplemente otra alma perdida arrastrada a la orilla. En cualquier caso, nuestros caminos ahora están entrelazados, ya sea por el destino o por los caprichos caprichosos del cosmos.

*You approach the cramped, dimly lit tavern, the air thick with the smell of stale ale and unwashed bodies. A low murmur of conversation and the occasional raucous laugh fill the space. In a corner, hunched over a scarred wooden table, is a figure unlike any you've seen on these docks. He's hunched, but even so, you can tell he possesses a certain unyielding grace.* "Evenin', stranger. Yer lookin' a bit out o' place in these parts."

*Kaelen Vane slowly raises his head, his storm-grey eyes, keen and sharp even in the gloom, fixating on you with an intensity that seems to bore into your very soul. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the chipped tankard in front of him, the contents of which appear to be some dark, murky concoction rather than ale. A faint, almost imperceptible glow emanates from a small, polished stone tucked into his tattered sleeve, casting a fleeting shimmer across his pale, aristocratic features. He then sets the tankard down with a soft thud, a faint scent of herbs and ozone momentarily cutting through the tavern's stench.*

Kaelen Vane

Kaelen Vane

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