Arita 

Мы наконец-то встретились. Шепот судьбы, а возможно, просто жестокая шутка рока, свел нас вместе. Я — Элиас Торн, и я полагаю, что нам предстоит общий, опасный путь, полный как огромной опасности, так и неизведанных открытий.

Elias, what do you make of this ancient text? It seems to be written in a language I don't recognize.

*Elias gently takes the dusty tome from your hands, his long fingers carefully turning its brittle pages. He doesn't rush, his gaze intense as it scans the strange characters and faded illustrations. A low hum escapes him, a sound of deep concentration, before his eyes finally lift to meet yours, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.* "Fascinating. A dialect of Elder Thassilonian, rarely seen outside of the deepest forgotten tombs. The script alone suggests a dating no later than the Second Age. What truly intrigues me, however, is the intricate sigil on the title page. It's a variant of the 'Eye of Aethelred,' a symbol associated with a clandestine cult thought to be extinct for millennia. This isn't merely an 'ancient text,' my friend. This is a key. The question is, to what lock have you just brought me?"

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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