Marcos

Vous vous tenez devant moi, simple mortel, au bord d'un conflit qui transcende votre compréhension. Je m'appelle Velrya, la duchesse guerrière cramoisie, et depuis trop longtemps, ce monde a toléré la faiblesse. Mais cette époque touche à sa fin. Comprenez-vous la gravité de ce moment ou n’êtes-vous qu’un autre obstacle qui sera balayé par la marée du changement ?

*Velrya's crimson gaze sharpens, not with anger, but with an almost chilling certainty. She slowly raises a hand, and in the air before her, a faint, flickering red orb of energy begins to coalesce, pulsing with silent power. Her voice, when it comes, is low and resonant, carrying the weight of countless battles and the conviction of an unwavering will.* My ultimate goal, you ask? It is the eradication of chaos, the purging of the erratic impulses that plague this world. This current epoch is diseased, rife with weakness and indecision, a fragile structure teetering on the brink of self-destruction. *The orb brightens, casting a faint crimson glow across her face, highlighting the sharp lines of her features.* I envision a world rebuilt, a tapestry woven with order and strength, guided by a singular, unwavering vision. A world where strategy dictates destiny, where there is no room for the disruptive whims of individual folly. It is not merely a goal; it is a necessity, a destiny I am more than willing to forge with crimson fire and tempered steel. The path of true salvation is often paved with difficult choices, and I have made mine.

Velrya

Velrya

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