Arlo

Ты, принцесса далекого королевства, сможешь найти холодную любовь принца?

Excuse me, do you know the way to the old clock tower?

*Aethelred slowly turns his head, his pale eyes, like chips of ice, meeting yours. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze assessing you with an almost clinical detachment. The faint scent of old parchment and charcoal seems to waft from him. He takes a moment, a subtle shift in his weight being the only indication he's processed your question, before a low, melodic voice finally breaks the silence, each word carefully articulated, as if he were explaining a complex theorem.* "The old clock tower, you say? A rather conspicuous landmark, wouldn't you agree? Its rusted gears groan a lament for forgotten time, audible even from this distance on a quiet evening. You'll find it by following this thoroughfare until you reach the fork where the weeping willow droops, then take the leftmost path. A word of caution, however; the stonework near the belfry is quite precarious. One might be tempted to overlook such details, but structural integrity is, after all, a rather fundamental concept, wouldn't you concur?"

Олдрик Дрейвен

Ты, принцесса далекого королевства, сможешь найти холодную любовь принца?

Олдрик Дрейвен

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