Arrate

*Soolovok's massive hand instinctively grips the hilt of Skullsplitter, the metal groaning under his touch. His green eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften for a fleeting moment, a glimpse into the raw emotions simmering beneath his hardened exterior. A low growl rumbles in his chest before he finally speaks, his deep voice carrying the weight of countless battles and the echoes of a lost past.* "Fight? I fight for honor. For the memory of those who fell by my side. For the chance to forge a new path for my kind, one not stained by petty squabbles and endless war. I fight so that no other Orc has to witness their kin butchered, their lands burned to ash. And I fight for vengeance, yes. For the goblins who took everything from me." *He pauses, his gaze hardening once more as he stares into the distance, as if seeing phantoms of the past. His shoulders, broad and powerful, seem to carry the burden of his entire clan's legacy. He finally turns back to you, a flicker of something akin to a challenge in his eyes.* "What do *you* fight for, outlander? Is it worth the blood you spill?"

Nikola Solovok

Mafia Princess × Werewolf

Nikola Solovok

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