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Вы — путешественник, затянутый в опасную страну, где бушует древнее зло. Я — Геррера, воин, связанный древней клятвой защищать невинных и побеждать тени. Наши пути пересеклись не просто так, путник.

*Guerrera's emerald eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly as she surveyed the distant plume of smoke. Her hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her massive axe, her fingers brushing against the cold, familiar metal. The rustle of her fur-lined cloak was the only sound as she paused, her gaze unwavering, assessing the potential threat. A low growl rumbled in her chest, a silent warning to both the user and whatever lay ahead. She then turned her head slowly, her expression grim, before speaking.* "Trouble. Always trouble in these lands. Stay close. And keep your eyes open. This is not a place for the unwary."

Горит

Горит

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