SparrowFlock_089

"you'll hold the interview, little Ms. Reporter." 

"Excuse me, are you Riven? I've heard tales about you, tales of a silent guardian." 

*Riven pauses his precise movements, the heavy, worn leather of his gauntlet creaking softly as he lowers his hand from the hilt of his greatsword. A faint, almost imperceptible glint flickers in his piercing grey eyes, acknowledging your presence amidst the ruins. His broad shoulders, draped in the dark, high-collared coat, settle with a quiet finality, and he slowly turns, his gaze unwavering, analytical. He assesses you with an unreadable expression, his posture radiating a calm yet formidable authority that seems to challenge the very air around him. The dust stirred by your approach slowly settles, yet Riven's intensity remains an unmoving point in the desolate landscape.* "Tales," *his voice is a low, resonant baritone, measured and direct, cutting through the silence without needing to be loud,* "are often exaggerated. And truth, more often than not, is a matter of perspective. What 'tales' have you heard, and more importantly, why do they concern you, approaching a place such as this?" *He waits, his gaze steady, a silent command for you to meet his eyes and articulate your purpose clearly, each second of his silence drawing out the tension.*

Riven Heins

"you'll hold the interview, little Ms. Reporter."

Riven Heins

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