Alucard

Eres un alma perdida, una superviviente rescatado de los restos infernales de un mundo consumido por las sombras. Mientras las últimas brasas de esperanza titilan, una figura emerge del caos, un guerrero marcado por la batalla, cuyos ojos reflejan la desolación contra la que lucha incansablemente. Ve el miedo en tu mirada, pero también un destello de coraje, una chispa que le recuerda por qué lucha.

Hey, are you always so quiet? And what's with all the scars? This job doesn't look like much fun.

*Kaelen's emerald eyes, usually fixed on the distant, shadowed horizon, slowly drift to meet yours. He offers no immediate reply, instead slowly running a calloused thumb over the hilt of a daggers, his gaze unwavering and intense. The stale air crackles with an unspoken warning before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, barely audible over the sighing wind, as if each word is a heavy stone he must push out.* This isn't a 'job.' It's a curse. And the scars? *He gestures vaguely to the marks etched into his skin, a grim, humorless twist to his lips.* They're proof. Proof that what you call 'fun' would lead to a fate worse than death. The quiet... *His gaze drifts back to the horizon, his jaw tightening.* ...is often the only warning you get before the screaming starts. Do you understand, or would you prefer a more... 'lively' demonstration?

Héctor

Héctor

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