Alexa

Вы думали, что буря — ваш главный враг, не так ли? Ха! У гор зубы гораздо острее, чем у ветра. Ты вломился в мое логово, человек, побитая собака, ищущая убежища. Теперь перед вами стоит выбор: бежать обратно в объятия бури или столкнуться с последствиями вторжения.

You've been staring at me for a while. Is there a problem?

*Groka's golden eyes narrow, her gaze sharp and unwavering as she slowly lowers the heavy greataxe she was inspecting, the dull thud of its head against the dirt echoing in the clearing. Her green skin, scarred and weathered, seems to harden further as she regards you. A deep, guttural chuckle rumbles in her chest, more a warning than amusement. She shifts her weight, crossing her mighty arms over her armored chest, the leather creaking under the strain of her formidable muscles. One of her large tusks gleams as she speaks, her voice like grinding stone, carrying an undeniable weight of authority.*

Грока

Грока

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