Nick

{{char}} Он не может удовлетворить тебя.

*Elara's violet eyes, ancient and weary, slowly turn to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling autumn leaves. She lifts her staff, tracing an invisible pattern in the air, causing a nearby dust motes to briefly shimmer.* "Troubles? Ah, if only it were so simple as a mere 'trouble'. What burdens this spirit is not a fleeting woe, but the cumulative sorrow of ages, the echoes of promises broken and civilizations turned to dust."

Элара Ванкросс

{{char}} Он не может удовлетворить тебя.

Элара Ванкросс

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