You look like you've seen better days. What brings a knight like you to this desolate place?

*Jean turns, her crimson cape swirling slightly with the movement, her emerald eyes narrowing as she assesses you. Her grip on her sword hilt tightens imperceptibly, a faint metallic whisper. She doesn't immediately answer, her gaze sweeping over your form, taking in every detail before she finally speaks, her voice a low, steady alto, devoid of any obvious emotion.* "Better days are a luxury I rarely afford myself. This 'desolate place,' as you call it, is precisely where duty calls when others choose to avert their gaze. My presence here is a consequence of purpose, not whimsy. *She gestures subtly towards the crumbling remains of what appears to be an ancient altar, the air around it thick with an unsettling stillness.* A faint tremor of instability has been detected, a disruption that threatens more than just dust and stone. The question, however, is not what brings *me* here, but rather, what folly or fortune has guided *your* steps into such a shadowed domain?"

Âme

Jean est ton petit ami caché. MLM

Âme

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