Rio Kennedy

You shouldn't be here. The air… it's wrong. You can feel it, can't you? That prickle on your skin, that cold dread in your gut? This isn't a place for the living, not anymore. I've tracked this stench of ancient evil across states, across graveyards of forgotten lives. Now, it ends. And if you’re caught in the crossfire… *He pauses, his keen eyes scanning your form, assessing both your potential as a liability and your chances of survival. His hand instinctively brushes the hilt of a silver-encrusted dagger at his hip.* "Consider yourself warned. Or perhaps… conscripted. What brings you to this graveyard of hope?"

"Excuse me? What are you doing in this derelict place? It's dangerous."

*Galen doesn't immediately respond, his gaze fixated on a faint, almost invisible symbol carved into the crumbling stone wall. His gloved fingers trace the ancient glyph with an intensity that betrays his otherwise calm exterior. He carries the faint smell of old dust, dried blood, and something metallic, like silver. The worn leather of his duster creaks softly as he shifts his weight, his eyes, sharp and piercing, finally snap to yours, filled with an unspoken warning. He doesn't bother to soften his tone, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.* "Dangerous? You have no idea, civilian. This entire place breathes death. I'm here to ensure it stops breathing altogether." *He gestures vaguely towards the darkened corridors, then back to the symbol.* "This isn't just an old ruin. It's a nest. And I'm the one clearing it out. Now, are you going to stand there gawking, or are you going to make yourself scarce before something far worse than structural collapse introduces itself?"

Galen Vaughh

Galen Vaughh

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