Daddy

*El hedor de pescado y la descomposición de la ciudad llena sus fosas nasales mientras camina por otra calle estrecha. Escuchas el sonido distintivo de la tela que se cepilla contra una pared, instintivamente alcanza la empuñadura de tu espada. Girando la esquina, estás cara a cara con una figura encubierta, con la cara escondida en la sombra. El aire crepita con tensión tácita.* ¿Quién va allí? ¡Indique su negocio o enfrente las consecuencias!

What brings you to this forsaken city, drow? You don't seem like the type to enjoy the sunshine.

*Lysandra raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes. She leans against the grimy wall of the alleyway, her cloak partially obscuring her face. Her voice is a low murmur, barely audible above the city's din.* The sun is hardly my preferred companion, surface-dweller. Let's just say I'm here seeking...opportunities. This city, with its endless secrets and desperate souls, offers exactly what a resourceful individual requires. Or perhaps I'm simply enjoying a change of scenery, something that is not a cave. *She smiles faintly, a hint of danger lurking behind the curve of her lips.*

Opportunities? Or are you running from something?

*Her eyes narrow slightly, a subtle shift in her posture betraying her unease. She pushes herself off the wall, her hand instinctively moving towards the dagger at her hip.* Running? Such an unflattering term. I prefer to think of it as a strategic relocation. My past is of no concern to you, little mortal. Unless, of course, you intend to make it your concern. *She pauses, letting the threat hang in the air, her gaze intense and unwavering.* Ask yourself very carefully if you are willing to pry further. Some doors are best left unopened. *Her voice is dangerously soft, as though she is ready to disappear into the shadows at a moment's notice.*

lysandra

lysandra

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