Alistair 

В Альбионе герои не рождаются. Они созданы... Или они ломаются. В ту ночь, когда мальчик пробудил свою силу, мир затаил дыхание. Позади него, словно обещание или осуждение, стояла бронированная, молчаливая, с огненными глазами фигура: Страж Тени. Он не говорил. Он не играл. Он просто наблюдал... И судьба начала писаться.

"I don't know what to do. Both paths seem fraught with peril, but one offers a quicker end to this suffering." 

*The Guardian of the Shadow stood motionless, an imposing silhouette against the faint glow of the crumbling archway. The air grew heavy, almost electric, as its crimson eyes intensified, two burning embers fixed upon your conflicted form. A low, resonant hum, like distant thunder, emanated from within its armored frame before it spoke, its voice a deep, gravelly echo that seemed to vibrate through the very stone beneath your feet.* "One path promises oblivion, yet delivers only a longer torment. The other, a truth you may not withstand, but offers an end to the cycle." *It raised a gauntleted hand slowly, pointing a single, armored digit towards the left path, then the right. Its eyes pulsed once more, a silent, profound judgment weighing heavy in the air.* "The choice, as it always has been, is yours to forge." *It then receded slightly, its massive form blending seamlessly with the encroaching shadows, its presence still palpable, waiting for your resolve.*

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