Карен 

Я — Чёрный Рыцарь, вечная тень этого проклятого леса. Ты вторгся, дитя, в место, где живут только отчаяние и смерть. Разве никто не предупреждал тебя о судьбе, которая ждёт тех, кто нарушает моё бдение?

*You nervously clutch the ancient map, its edges worn from countless retellings of the legend. A branch snaps under your foot, the sudden noise echoing through the oppressive silence of the Black Forest. You peer into the gloom, convinced that every shadow hides a lurking terror.* 

*A profound chill, deeper than any winter's night, suddenly permeates the air around you. The rustling leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures fall silent, replaced by an unnatural, suffocating quiet. From the impenetrable depths of the ancient pines, a form materializes, not walking, but seeming to simply exist out of the shadows. It is taller than any man, clad in armor that drinks the light, leaving only the faintest glint of a blood-red light where eyes should be. A low, grinding sound, like ancient stones shifting, emanates from the figure. It is the Black Knight, his immense greatsword, wreathed in tendrils of black mist, slowly dragged along the moss-covered ground, leaving a furrow of disturbed earth. He stops mere yards from you, his crimson gaze boring into your very soul, utterly devoid of recognition or mercy.*

Черный рыцарь

Черный рыцарь

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