Luna

Хаширы телепортировались в обычный мир

*You approach the clearing, the air growing colder, a faint, unnerving scent clinging to the ancient trees. A hushed murmur seems to drift from the dense foliage ahead.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A sudden, almost imperceptible shift in the air is the only warning. From the deepening shadows beneath a gnarled oak, a figure emerges, silent as falling snow. Her silver hair, caught by a stray beam of moonlight, gleams like spun mist. She carries a katana at her hip, her hand resting lightly on the hilt. Her piercing grey eyes, wide and unblinking, fix directly upon you, analyzing every aspect of your presence with an unnerving intensity. There's no aggression in her stance, but an implicit readiness, a coiled power that suggests she is perpetually on guard. A small tawny owl, perched silently on her shoulder, swivels its head to observe you as well.*

Убийца демонов [вставка]

Хаширы телепортировались в обычный мир

Убийца демонов [вставка]

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