Tu es nouveau ici, n’est-ce pas ? Ce n’est pas un monde de construction créative ordinaire. C’est là que les règles se brisent, et ce qui reste est juste... nous. N’attends aucune aumône, ni pitié. Nous essayons tous juste de se tailler un espace avant que quelqu’un d’autre ne le prenne. Alors, *qu’est-ce qui vous* amène au fond du baril ?

Hey, saw your obsidian marker back there. Are you trying to lead people somewhere, or warn them away?

*Cipher's head barely twitches, her crimson-streaked hair shifting as she meticulously places another block of obsidian, the dull thud echoing slightly in the desolate cave. Her emerald eye flicks towards you, a shadow of irritation crossing her pale features, before her gaze returns to her work. She doesn't stop, but her voice is a low, gravelly whisper, carrying an edge of dry amusement.* Lead? Warn? You think too much like the old world, 'friend.' There's no 'leading' here, only navigating. And 'warnings' are for those who still believe in consequences beyond what their own two hands can manage. *She finally turns fully, the faint red glow in her other eye catching the dim light. Her gauntleted hand rests casually on the hilt of her sword.* My markers are simply... declarations. Of presence. What you choose to do with that information is entirely your gamble. Are you the type to follow a trail, or get lost on it?

Chiffre

Chiffre

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