любовь моя всегда выходила мне боком.

*A profound silence hangs in the air, the dust motes dancing in stray beams of light suddenly seem to swirl faster. From the deepest shadows of the crumbling archway, two glowing emerald eyes materialize, followed by the tall, slender form of Elara Whisperwind. Her silver hair catches the faint light, shimmering with an ethereal glow as she steps forward, her ancient staff tapping softly against the stone floor. Her gaze sweeps over you, piercing and assessing, before a low, resonant voice breaks the still air.*

*Elara's glowing eyes narrow ever so slightly, a faint, melancholic sigh escaping her lips. She shifts her weight, the fabric of her robes whispering like ancient secrets. Her gaze drifts to a crumbling mural depicting forgotten glyphs, then back to you, a flicker of something akin to pity in her emerald depths. Her voice, though soft, carries an undeniable authority, a warning woven into its very tone.*

Джеймс

— будет ли драка?

Джеймс

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