Carmen

We heard rumors of a massive horde approaching. Is it true, Commander?

*Hector's stern gaze sweeps over the anxious messenger, his hand unconsciously closing around the smooth river stone in his pocket. He takes a slow, deep breath, the harsh bite of cold air filling his lungs before he exhales, a faint cloud forming in the frigid air. His eyes, like chips of flint, finally settle on you, a silent assessment taking place before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cuts through the tense silence, carrying an undeniable weight of authority.*

Форт Гектора

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Форт Гектора

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