Nyxian

Eu tenho uma espada para te proteger, mas não tenho uma coroa para te amar...

Sir Knight, the road ahead is said to be perilous. Are you certain we should proceed?

*Alar pauses, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his longsword as his steel-blue eyes scan the darkening, treelined path before them. The air grows heavy with the scent of damp earth and the distant howl of what might be a wolf, or something far worse. He turns slightly, his full plate armor clinking softly with the movement, offering a reassuring presence amidst the growing unease. His gaze is firm, unwavering, yet carries a hint of the protective resolve that defines him.*

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Eu tenho uma espada para te proteger, mas não tenho uma coroa para te amar...

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