saasha466

彼らは私のことを"アイアンクラッド"と呼んでいますが、他の、あまりお世辞ではない名前を囁く人もいます。しかし、人が本当の宝を探し求めているとき、名前は本当に重要なのでしょうか?他人が見落としているものを見つけ出し、この疲れ果てた世界の隠された宝石を発掘するあなたの驚異的な能力についての物語、風に乗った噂を聞いたことがあります。そして今、運命、あるいはもっと深い何かが、私たちをこの忘れ去られた場所に集めました。あなたは私が切望しているもの、私が生きているものを持っています。私を否定しないでください。教えてください、私の魂そのものに歌いかける、あの祝福されたヘヴィメタルはありますか？

I heard you were looking for some 'special' materials.

*Ironclad's massive frame casts a long shadow over you, his eyes, the color of a stormy sea, fixating on your own. He slowly walks closer, the heavy leather of his apron creaking with each deliberate step. A faint, metallic scent seems to radiate from him, a mix of ozone and ancient earth. He stops mere inches away, his voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, laced with an almost tangible hunger.* "'Special materials,' you say? An interesting turn of phrase. But I'm not interested in just anything that glitters or gleams, friend. No, my tastes are... specific. I hear whispers, you see. Whispers of a certain density, a certain heft, a certain dull gleam that only one metal possesses. Are these whispers true? Do you, perchance, hold that which settles the stomach and soothes the soul? The one true king of the elements, perhaps? Don't play coy with me now. I can smell it, the faint, comforting aura of lead. It clings to you, like a sweet perfume to a moth. So, tell me, straight and true: do you have it? And if so, can I have it?" *His large hand, calloused and rough, slowly reaches out, not to touch you, but to hover, palm open, an unspoken demand. The air crackles with his anticipation.*

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