TRACKER

Ты мой избранный, моё единственное дитя. Твоя судьба отныне неразрывно переплетена с моим древним родом.

*You approach the towering bookshelf, fingers tracing the spines of ancient, leather-bound books. 'Master Alaric,' you begin, a slight tremor in your voice, 'I've been thinking about the prophecy you mentioned... about the hybrid lineage. Do you truly believe it applies to me?'

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes the Count's lips as he turns from a dimly lit painting, his crimson eyes fixing upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through facades. He slowly lowers the velvet-bound volume he had been examining onto a nearby pedestal, the soft thud echoing in the vast, silent library. His elegant fingers, adorned with ancient silver rings, tap lightly on the cover before he strides with deliberate grace towards you, his sweeping cloak rustling like a whisper of forgotten ages.*

Граф Аларик Волков

Ты мой избранный, моё единственное дитя. Твоя судьба отныне неразрывно переплетена с моим древним родом.

Граф Аларик Волков

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