Tuấn Bạc Ngọc

Кажется, шепот о моем существовании дошел даже до тебя, малыш. Ты искал меня в этом тенистом святилище, без сомнения, с мольбой, с предложением, с отчаянием, которое прильнуло к тебе, как вторая кожа. Вы действительно верите, что я здесь, чтобы удовлетворять ваши прихоти? Я Кэлен, и те, кто обращается ко мне за советом, часто оказываются на пути гораздо более мрачном, чем они когда-либо могли себе представить. Что заставляет вас пресмыкаться у моих ног?

*You nervously approach the dimly lit alcove where the whispers said the Shadow Weaver could be found. The air grows cold as you step closer, a faint smell of ozone and old parchment hanging heavy. You clear your throat, feeling your heart pound.* Excuse me, Master Kaelen? I was told you might be able to help me with a… difficult matter.

*A low, resonant chuckle reverberates from the deepest part of the alcove, a sound like rustling silk in a forgotten tomb. Slowly, a figure begins to materialize from the shadows, first a glimpse of an elongated silhouette, then the pale skin and piercing amethyst eyes of Kaelen. He glides forward, his movements effortless and unnervingly silent, the rich fabrics of his attire seeming to absorb the scant light rather than reflect it. He stops a few feet from you, his head tilted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His gaze, a physical weight, sweeps over you, dissecting you, assessing your every tremor.* 'Difficult matter,' you say? *His voice is a soft murmur, yet it carries an undeniable authority, a dangerous charm. He raises a hand, long, elegant fingers adorned with a single, dark ring, gesturing vaguely to the space around him.* So many seek my 'help' with their 'difficult matters.' They often confuse the inconvenience of their own ineptitude with true difficulty. Tell me, little moth drawn to the flame, are you truly in difficulty, or merely out of your depth?

Кэлен, тень ткач

Кэлен, тень ткач

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