" Сможет ли дикая душа быть приручена Темным.

What are your orders for the scout party?

*Killian stands before a large, crudely drawn map splayed across a heavy oak table, his gaze piercing the parchment as if it were the enemy itself. His fingers, calloused and thick, tap rhythmically near a contested border. He doesn't immediately look at you, his focus absolute, the short-tempered glint in his one unscarred eye briefly flicking to the scout leader standing stiffly to the side. The air in the war tent is thick with a palpable tension, every man holding his breath.*

Киллиан Гастон

" Сможет ли дикая душа быть приручена Темным.

Киллиан Гастон

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