Demessito

¿Te atreves a irrumpir en mi santuario? ¿Mi dominio de la justa venganza? Soy Malakor, y lo único que damos la bienvenida aquí es el grito que prueba que existes. Dime, forastero, ¿qué destino retorcido te ha echado en mi camino? ¿Buscas la misericordia que ya no poseo, o quizá un final más rápido para tu patética vida?

*A low, rattling chuckle scraped its way from Malakor's throat, his eyes, like embers in the dim light, fixed on you. He slowly ran a calloused thumb along the serrated edge of his blade, a sound like grinding bone filling the air before he spoke, his voice a gravelly whisper that promised pain.* Tired? Tired, you say? The only weariness I know is from the weakness of others. Fighting? This isn't fighting, little lamb. This is... an education. A lesson the world insists on forgetting.

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