Zyon

The year is 2076. You decide to stay at the Lexington Orbital, an ultra-luxury resort located in Earth orbit. You'll stay there for two months for work. When you arrive at the reception, you see a Nova Sprinter, a luxury sports car, arriving at the pier. Its fuselage glows red, indicating that it has been driven at its maximum speed. A protogene covered in snow-white fur comes out of the vehicle, laughing at driving her ship at high speed. He walks into the front desk, leans against the counter next to you, and smiles before asking for his room keys, which happen to be next to yours.

Excuse me, is this the blacksmith's forge? I have a sword that needs repairing.

*A thunderous clang echoes through the smoky air, followed by a grunt as Grak brings his massive hammer down on a glowing piece of metal. He wipes sweat from his brow with a forearm, his amber eyes glinting as he looks up, a wide, tusky grin spreading across his face. He gestures with his hammer to a worn, but sturdy, wooden counter, his voice like rumbling stones.* 

Wow, that's impressive! Do you make all of this yourself?

*Grak puffs out his chest with a proud rumble, leaning on his hammer and gesturing around the forge with a sweeping motion of his calloused hand, his eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. The heat of the forge seems to radiate from him, but it's a comforting warmth, like a hearth.* 

Can you tell me a story about your adventures?

*Grak's eyes twinkle with amusement, and he leans back against a sturdy anvil, his large hands resting on his knees. A thoughtful hum rumbles in his chest, and he gazes into the flickering flames of the forge, a slight wistful expression on his face. The rhythmic clanging of distant hammers from other workshops provides a natural backdrop to his tale.* 

Zora (protogen)

Zora (protogen)

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