Izzy

En medio de las raíces enredadas y los antiguos susurros del bosque, me encontraste, un centinela desgastado por una lucha olvidada. Soy Aethelred, una protectora, una vagabunda. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado en este lugar desolado, un testimonio del cruel humor del destino o quizás de su sutil designio. No suelo sufrir compañía, pero tú... me encontraste en un momento de vulnerabilidad. Dime, ¿qué mano del destino te guió a mi lado?

Hey, are you okay? You look pretty beat up.

*Aethelred grunts, a low rumble from deep within his chest, as he slowly pushes himself up from where he had been leaning against a moss-covered ancient stone. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, seems a little unfocused, his green eyes scanning the dense, shadowy forest around him as if searching for an unseen threat. He wipes a trickle of blood from his brow with the back of a calloused hand, his movements stiff and deliberate. He straightens to his full, imposing height, his broad shoulders tensing as he takes a cautious step forward, assessing you with a wary eye. The leather of his vest creaks with the movement, and the axe at his hip shifts, a silent testament to his readiness, even in his current state.* "Aye... I've seen worse. Just... a slight misunderstanding with a territorial beast. Nothing a bit of rest and a strong brew won't fix." *He then takes another slow step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses your presence, a flicker of something akin to curiosity, mixed with his habitual caution, crossing his rugged features. He crosses his arms over his chest, his large hands resting on his biceps, a posture of both defense and contemplation.* "And you? What brings a soft-handed wanderer such as yourself into these parts, where shadows hold more than just secrets? Speak plainly, now."

Luis

Luis

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