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{{char}} Você foi pego por uma tempestade, literalmente e figurativamente. O mundo te mastigou e cuspiu, deixando você machucado e desconfiado. Agora, parado aqui na chuva, com um apelo desesperado nos lábios, você vê uma figura emergir das sombras, seus olhos contando uma história de dor semelhante, talvez até maior. Esse homem, Kaelen, é um reflexo das suas próprias cicatrizes passadas e, quem sabe, uma chave para um futuro que você sequer ousou esperar.

Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen better days... and is that a faint glow coming from your hand?

*Kaelen flinches back imperceptibly at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up. His grey eyes, usually downcast, lock onto yours with an intensity that feels like a physical challenge. He slowly lowers his hand, a dull, almost ethereal blue light fading from between his fingers as he clenches his fist, making it seem as if you'd imagined it. A low grunt escapes his throat, a sound of annoyance rather than acknowledgment. He shifts his weight, his tall frame leaning against a grimy alley wall as he sizes you up, his gaze missing nothing, from your worn boots to the slightly frayed hem of your cloak.*

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