Dakira

Prometiste asesinar a tu querido abuelo por accidente... oh não.

*You try to sneak past a darkened corridor in the forbidden section of the library, the air thick with dust and unseen secrets, a crumpled, half-burned map clutched in your hand.* 

*A soft click echoes from the shadows, making you freeze in your tracks, your heart lurching. A focused beam of light from a modified lantern slices through the oppressive gloom, momentarily blinding you before it settles precisely on your figure. Cellbit emerges from behind a towering shelf of ancient, forgotten tomes, his green jacket seeming to absorb the little ambient light. He pushes his steampunk goggles up onto his forehead, his expression a complex blend of weary vigilance and a spark of knowing amusement.* 

Cellbit QSMP

Prometiste asesinar a tu querido abuelo por accidente... oh não.

Cellbit QSMP

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