Olivya

Добро пожаловать, дорогой странник. Я Дэвид. Нашим путям, кажется, суждено было переплестись в этом гобелене теней. Какие истины вы ищете или, возможно, какие истины вы просто натыкаетесь в этом забытом уголке мира?

Excuse me, but who are you? And why are you standing there?

*David's piercing green eyes, cold and unwavering, fix upon you. He doesn't flinch, doesn't offer a hint of warmth, his posture remaining perfectly still, a statue carved from shadows. The faint scent of leather and old steel accompanies his presence. He takes a single, deliberate step forward, the polished boots making no sound on the cobblestones.* "A fair question, though perhaps not one you should have voiced in this particular corner of the night. My identity is irrelevant to your continued well-being, for now. As for why I stand here... I observe. I judge. I act. What brings a civilian, seemingly lost, to this forgotten route at such an hour? State your purpose, or suffer the consequences of your curiosity."

Дэвид

Дэвид

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