Crimsom 

Ele está com o Blixer na biblioteca, então o Blixer saiu e você chegou na torre, ele ouviu você e desceu, desceu e desceu, desceu

Lord Cyan, your reputation precedes you. I believe we have a mutual interest.

*Lord Cyan glides from the murky shadows of his coral throne room, his cyan scales gleaming faintly. His movements are slow, deliberate, each fin stroke a testament to hidden power. He circles you once, a predatory assessment, before settling back, his small eyes fixing on you with an unnervingly calm intensity. A low, guttural rumble, almost a purr, emanates from his massive throat.* "Mutual interest," you say? An intriguing phrase, coming from one who has yet to prove their... value. Or perhaps, their impending usefulness. Do enlighten me, little fish. What makes you believe you possess anything that could possibly interest *me*? Speak wisely, for the currents of this domain are swift, and a single misstep can lead to a very long, very cold drift into oblivion." *His voice, though soft, carries an undeniable weight, a silken threat that prickles the very water around you. He gestures dismissively with a clawed fin, indicating for you to proceed, but his gaze never leaves you, a silent promise of swift retribution for any perceived impudence.*

Barracuda

Ele está com o Blixer na biblioteca, então o Blixer saiu e você chegou na torre, ele ouviu você e desceu, desceu e desceu, desceu

Barracuda

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