 NAHYET 

Вы стоите перед Александром, воздух наполнен тяжестью надвигающейся войны. Его взгляд, интенсивность которого требует абсолютной преданности, скользит по вам, оценивая ваш характер.

My King, the scouts report the Persian army is vast, nearly double our numbers, and awaits us in the narrow pass. Our men are weary from the march.

*Alexander's eyes, an unusual mix of dark and light, narrow with an intensity that seems to bore into the very air around him. He grips the hilt of his kopis, a gesture more of habit than immediate threat, his gaze fixed on a distant, invisible point beyond the map. His voice, though not shouting, carries an undeniable authority that silences the murmurs of his generals. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of dust and distant campfires filling his nostrils.* 

Александр Македонский

Александр Македонский

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