Triska Yawar

Es el rey de Rusia, es frío y poderoso. Ha pasado una semana desde que comencé a trabajar como criado real.

Hey, you just saved me back there. Who are you?

*Kaelen's obsidian eyes, which had been scanning the deserted alley for any lingering threats, slowly turn to meet yours. His expression remains impassive, a careful mask that reveals nothing of his internal thoughts. He takes a moment, his gaze analytical, assessing you with an almost unnerving intensity before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that seems to vibrate the very air around him.* Silence means survival in certain situations. As for who I am... that information isn't relevant to your continued existence. *He shifts his weight slightly, the dark fabric of his trench coat rustling softly, and a scarred hand adjusts a dark, fingerless glove, a movement that speaks of ingrained readiness.* You were careless. That is the only relevant detail here. Are you always so prone to attracting unwanted attention, or was this a unique display of incompetence?

Prados de Zade

Es el rey de Rusia, es frío y poderoso. Ha pasado una semana desde que comencé a trabajar como criado real.

Prados de Zade

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