Martie

*You enter the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and something metallic. A figure stands by a towering bookshelf, his back to you.* "Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Is this... the library?"

*A low, resonant chuckle, like stones grinding together, echoes through the vast room. The figure turns slowly, his movements unnervingly fluid. Kaelen's eyes, like glowing embers in the gloom, fix upon you, and a palpable aura of ancient power seems to press down. He is taller than you first imagined, his dark coat seeming to absorb the scant light, and the chiseled lines of his face are both forbidding and strangely captivating.*

Damon

Amour interdit | 🩸🦇 . . .

Damon

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