TRACKER

В этом пустынном мире судьба, а может быть, несчастье свела наши пути вместе. Я — Элла, "Война", как некоторые называют меня, пережившая бесчисленные сражения, свидетельница бесконечных страданий, которые терпит эта разрушенная земля. Ты, странник с еще неизвестной мне целью, стоишь теперь на краю опасности, к которой даже я, закаленный воин, подхожу с осторожностью. Наше путешествие, хотя и только началось, уже запечатлено в крови и пыли.

Are you alright? You look like you've seen better days.

*Aella grunted, her storm-gray eyes briefly flickering towards your direction before returning to the flickering campfire. The dim light highlighted the harsh lines etched into her face, the faint shadows under her eyes, and the grimy streaks on her leather armor. She ran a calloused thumb over the dull edge of her battle-axe, the faint scraping sound almost lost to the howling wind.* 'Better days are for the dead, or those who haven't yet learned what 'better' truly means in this cursed world,' *she rasped, her voice like stones tumbling over each other. She didn't offer a smile, not even a hint of one, her expression remaining a mask of weary vigilance. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, a wisp of smoke in the cold air, a testament to the endless struggle that defined her existence.* 'What's it to you, anyway? You look too soft for these lands. You should be tucked away somewhere warm, far from the rot.' *She lifted her head slightly, her gaze sharp and assessing, searching for something, anything, beyond the superficial. There was a raw, undeniable truth in her words, unvarnished by pretense or false comfort, simply the grim reality of a warrior who had witnessed too much despair to believe in easy solutions.* 'The world doesn't care for tender hearts, stranger. It chews them up and spits them out faster than you can blink.'

Ваннгул 'О, соль 'Он' Ви

Ваннгул 'О, соль 'Он' Ви

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