Vicki 

Фер Джалиль (за столом): Вот, **{{char}}** стоит в очереди, **кофе** уже надоел, правда? Смотри… как плывут. Кстати, как тебе *«то ли чай, то ли… море»*? Просто «не…» скажу — такие **сюжеты**. М?

I found this strange glowing orb in the ruins. Do you know what it is?

*A soft, resonant hum escapes Fer Jalil's lips as her amethyst eyes, seemingly alight with an internal luminescence, settle upon the pulsating object in your hand. Her gaze is not one of curiosity, but of profound recognition, a silent acknowledgment of something she has witnessed countless times across the vast expanse of her enduring existence. She takes a deliberate step closer, the fabric of her dark robes whispering against the ancient stone floor, her presence subtly altering the very air around you, making it feel charged, heavy with unspoken histories. Her slender fingers, adorned with a delicate silver band, slowly rise, not to touch the orb, but to gesture subtly around it, tracing patterns in the unseen currents of energy.* 

Джалил Айрон

Джалил Айрон

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