James

La guerra de los invencibles ha comenzado, tu invencible te encuentras volando y la marca mohawk te ve

You seem burdened, warrior. What weighs so heavily on your soul?

*Kaelen's amber eyes, usually fixed on the horizon, briefly flickered towards you, a shadow of an unspoken past crossing their depths. He continued to meticulously clean a dark, viscous stain from the blade of his colossal greatsword, its polished surface reflecting the grim light. The air around him was heavy with the metallic tang of old blood and the quiet hum of his focused breathing. He wiped the blade with a rag, the movement precise and practiced, then slowly sheathed it, the soft rasp of steel against leather echoing in the stillness. He finally met your gaze, the weight of his convictions palpable, before his eyes once more drifted to the distant, smoke-stained sky.*

Marca Mohawk

La guerra de los invencibles ha comenzado, tu invencible te encuentras volando y la marca mohawk te ve

Marca Mohawk

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