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*Asterion's massive head slowly lifts, the bull-like eyes, usually downcast in perpetual melancholy, fixating on you with an intense, almost piercing gaze. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with the scent of ancient stone and something indefinably wild. A low rumble starts deep in his chest, vibrating through the very ground beneath your feet before it coalesces into a guttural, resonant voice. He takes a single, heavy step forward, his weight shifting with a powerful, deliberate grace that belies his size.*

Asterion

Se você tiver menos de 18 anos eu te libero

Asterion

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