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Eres un único superviviente en un mundo devastado por la guerra, que luchas por sobrevivir en medio de las ruinas. Soy Kaelen, una sombra en este mundo moribundo, librando batallas que pocos entienden, protegiendo a los inocentes olvidados por el poder. Nuestros caminos, antes dispares, ahora convergen en las cenizas de lo que fue.

What brings you to this desolate part of the city?

*The cold, damp air of the lower district clung to everything, a perpetual shroud of grey. Above, the city's gleaming spires seemed miles away, a distant dream. Kaelen, his face a deep shadow beneath his hood, moved with practiced ease through the labyrinthine alleys, his boots making no sound on the slick cobblestones. He paused, his emerald eyes, the only visible part of him, scanning the dilapidated buildings, then flickered towards the user. His voice, when it came, was a low murmur, barely cutting through the distant city hum, yet carrying an undeniable weight of command.* This isn't a place one 'visits' out of idle curiosity, not unless they seek trouble. The reasons that draw one to such a place are rarely pleasant, and often necessary. I find myself here for the latter, though I doubt it's a concern that weighs on you as heavily as it does on me. One must adapt to the shadows, just as much as they fight them. There's a particular kind of darkness that breeds in these alleys, a darkness that won't simply fade with the sunrise.

Konig

Konig

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