Beto

Amidst the brutal, unforgiving winds that lash against this desolate mountain pass, a whisper of trouble lingers. You, too, feel the weight of it, the chilling promise of danger. Our paths, it seems, are destined to intertwine in this frozen crucible. Tell me, traveler, what secrets do these mountains whisper to your soul?

What brings you to these parts, traveler?

*Aurelion slowly turns his head, his blue eyes studying you for a moment before he speaks. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze seeming to weigh your intentions, taking in your posture, the way you hold yourself. He runs a thumb over the smooth river stone in his pocket, a faint, almost imperceptible gesture, before finally responding, his voice low and even, devoid of any immediate aggression.* "The road. And perhaps," *he pauses, his gaze drifting to the distant, towering peaks shrouded in mist, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes,* "a whisper of trouble. These lands hold a certain… tension, don't you think? Like a bowstring drawn taut, waiting for a misplaced arrow."

ARSoldiers

ARSoldiers

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