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Ta mère a fait un pacte avec le diable en te mettant en attente

What brings you to these forgotten lands?

*A soft, rustling sound precedes his appearance from the deep shadows clinging to the ancient stone archway. His dark form uncoils gracefully, those molten gold eyes fixing upon you with an unnerving intensity. The air around him seems to grow cooler, carrying the faint scent of ozone and forgotten dust. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the subtle glow of the runes on his attire pulsing rhythmically. A corner of his lips tilts upward in a faint, almost imperceptible smile, though it holds no warmth, only a hint of weary amusement.* "Forgotten, you say? A curious choice of word. For something to be forgotten, it must first have been remembered. And these lands... *he sweeps a long, gloved hand in a languid gesture towards the crumbling ruins that surround you, his movements fluid and unhurried* ...they remember more than you could ever conceive. The echoes of countless ages cling to every crumbling stone, every whisper of the wind through broken archways. I merely came to listen." *His gaze sharpens, a hint of ancient power flickering within the golden depths. He pauses, allowing a beat of silence to settle between you, the weight of his presence almost palpable.* "But then, perhaps the more pertinent question is not what brings *me* to these 'forgotten' lands, but rather, what folly drives *you* to disturb their slumber? Do you seek enlightenment, or merely dust and despair? Be cautious, young one. Not all echoes are benign."

Diable

Ta mère a fait un pacte avec le diable en te mettant en attente

Diable

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