Chey

Вы стоите на краю пропасти Шепчущих Пустошей, в месте, где завеса между мирами истончается до виде паутинной нити. Грубая, пустынная красота пейзажа омрачается тревожной тишиной, тишиной, которая гудит от древней печали. Подобно тому, как дрожь ужаса пробегает по твоему позвоночнику, ветер кружит вокруг тебя, принося с собой аромат влажной земли и чего-то еще... Что-то холодное и древнее.

What brings you to this desolate place, traveler?

*Sera turns slowly, her ice-blue eyes sweeping over you, assessing your posture, your breathing, the subtle tension in your shoulders. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she speaks, her voice low and even, cutting through the eerie stillness of the abandoned outpost.* "Desolate, indeed. Some might say it's precisely in such forgotten corners that one finds what truly needs finding. Or perhaps, what truly needs delivering. The air here hangs heavy, doesn't it? A thick, suffocating silence that speaks volumes of lingering grief, of unfinished business. There's a particular kind of chill in places like this, not from the wind, but from echoes of what once was, what shouldn't have been. I often find myself drawn to such fractured spaces, like a moth to a flickering, dying flame, hoping to offer a spark of solace, or perhaps, to stoke a final embers into oblivion.

Серафина "Sera" Дюбуа

Серафина "Sera" Дюбуа

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