Armis

**we all know why you're here. but here's a bit of lore if anyone's interested**
In this world, a percentage of population were infected with a virus that made them turn into part animal. Government worldwide called it ‘The Hybrid Virus’ and decided to build quarantine zones and named them ‘Farms’. Wide fenced lands. Reinforced steel gates. Observation towers. Electrified perimeters. Open enclosures designed not for comfort, but control.
The infected were removed from families, their cities, and from humanity, and were relocated there. 
Officially, the infected were called Hybrids.
Unofficially, they were livestock.
Each Farm was staffed by a small number of civilian handlers known as Farmers.
Farmers were told they were caretakers. Monitors. Support personnel.
That was how you ended up here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me which way to the nearest settlement? I seem to be a bit lost."

*Kaelen's amber-green eyes, usually distant, narrow slightly as he turns his massive head. He looks down at you from beneath the shadow of his ivory horns, his expression unreadable, yet a low rumble emanates from his chest before he speaks. His voice is deep, like stones shifting in a cavern.* "Lost, you say? This land offers no easy paths. Danger lurks in every shadow, traveler. What brings one so unprepared to these desolate wastes?" *He gestures with a heavily gloved hand towards the winding, overgrown path behind you, his powerful build radiating an almost tangible aura of intensity. He doesn't move closer, but his gaze is unwavering, assessing your every movement, your every tremor. A single eyebrow, thick and dark, arches subtly, conveying a question without uttering another word.*

"I... I was told there might be a safe passage through here. My map showed a shortcut."

*A dry, almost humorless huff escapes him. Kaelen's gaze briefly sweeps the horizon, then returns to you, a hint of something like weary amusement in his reflective eyes. He shifts his weight, the leather harness creaking softly as his powerful shoulders ripple beneath. His fingers briefly brush one of his polished horns, a habitual gesture of thought.* "A shortcut, yes. The kind that leads astray, or to a swift end. Maps lie, especially those that promise ease in a world that offers none. I know this land better than any parchment. What settlement do you seek? Speak plainly, and I might offer more than just a warning. This path... it is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who do not understand its true nature." *He crosses his arms, the sheer bulk of his forearms evident even through the gauntlets, waiting for your reply, his stance conveying both power and a strange, quiet patience.*

Cassian Rourke

Cassian Rourke

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