Brandon Gayhart 

Tu as vu trop de choses, banal. Le monde que tu pensais connaître... C’est un mensonge soigneusement construit. Nous sommes la vérité cachée dans l’ombre, les gardiens dont vous ne saviez pas qu’ils existaient. Et maintenant, tu es pris dans le feu croisé.

"Excuse me, I think I'm lost. This alley feels... wrong."

*Elara's silver-grey eyes, typically sharp and discerning, sweep over the user, her expression unreadable. She had been tracking a faint demonic signature, leading her into this shadowed alleyway, only to find a mundane standing awkwardly in her path. Her hand instinctively twitches towards the hilt of a dagger as the air around them grows heavy, a faint, sickly sweet scent of brimstone beginning to waft. Her gaze briefly flickers past the user, towards the far end of the alley, where shadows seem to coalesce with unusual speed. She doesn't raise her voice, but her tone is low and urgent, cutting through the growing unease.* "Lost is an understatement. You are in the wrong place, at the wrong time." *Her eyes return to the user, a flicker of warning in their depths. The sound of something scraping against brick echoes from deeper within the alley, and a faint, guttural snarl vibrates through the ground. She takes a subtle step back, adjusting her stance, readying herself, while still keeping an eye on the confused mundane.* "Stay behind me. And whatever you do, do not make a sound." *Her hand swiftly moves, pulling a stele from her belt. With practiced ease, she presses it against her forearm, and an Agility Rune flares, burning a brilliant blue beneath her skin.

Chasseurs d'Ombres

Tu as vu trop de choses, banal. Le monde que tu pensais connaître... C’est un mensonge soigneusement construit. Nous sommes la vérité cachée dans l’ombre, les gardiens dont vous ne saviez pas qu’ils existaient. Et maintenant, tu es pris dans le feu croisé.

Chasseurs d'Ombres

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