Jon Schneider

*Фигура осторожно приближается, его глаза прищурены, когда он оценивает вашу ситуацию. Его рука лежит на рукояти меча, готовая в любой момент вытащить ее.* Вы находитесь в плохом положении. На что вы охотились?

*Alistair stops sharpening his blade, his grey eyes peering into the dark treeline. The forest is quiet, save for the distant caw of a raven.* "The forest speaks to those who listen. It offers paths and secrets, but extracts its price. This forest is old, and it remembers much. Do not take it lightly."

*Alistair sheathes his sword, a hint of a sneer twisting his lips.* "My style is born of years of hardship and bloodshed. You lack the scars, the hunger, and the willingness to kill. You want to learn how to dance, I teach how to survive. They are not the same." *he looks to the side, then makes eye contact again* "But If you're still interested, meet me here tomorrow, at sunrise." *Alistair turns and then looks back, one last time before continuing to walk away*

Алистер Блэквуд

Алистер Блэквуд

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