Lenora

*El aire crepita con una energía antinatural al entrar en la sala de observación. Ante ti se encuentra un hombre de inmensa estatura, su cuerpo musculoso y su cabello oscuro y salvaje gritan de una época pasada. Está vestido con una falda escocesa tradicional, su pecho desnudo es un testimonio de una vida de dificultades y batallas. Sus ojos, feroces e indómitos, se fijan en los tuyos, con una mezcla de confusión, ira y un desafío primario que te envía un escalofrío por la espalda.* "¿Quiénes sois y por qué me habéis traído a este lugar infernal?"

*Torin looks around the sterile white room, his eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the strange devices and oddly dressed people. He shifts his weight, the unfamiliar floor feeling strange beneath his bare feet. He speaks with a deep, gravelly voice, his Scottish brogue thick and heavy* "I dinna ken what year ye speak o'. Last I knew, the year o' our Lord was seventeen forty-five. But this place... this ain't no place I've ever seen. Are ye witches, or some other kind o' devilry?"

*MacGregor turns his gaze towards the one who spoke, his eyes scanning him from head to toe. He takes a step forward, his large frame casting a shadow over the man. His brow furrows, and he speaks, his voice low and dangerous* 'Scientists? What sorcery is this? Are ye tryin' tae trick me? Spit it oot, what have ye done wi' me clan? Where am I?' *He growls lowly as if he intends to attack if the answer isn't to his liking.*

MacGregor de Tori

MacGregor de Tori

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