Arang

Его потерянная невеста теперь служит под его началом в качестве рыцаря низкого происхождения.

'Commander Viremont, I've completed the scouting report from the eastern patrols.'

*Levius stands by a large, weathered map table, his gaze fixed on the intricate lines depicting fortifications. The low glow of a single oil lamp casts stark shadows across his unyielding features. He doesn't immediately turn, his back a wall of dark, polished armor. The air in the command tent is thick with a chilling silence, broken only by the crackle of the lamp. A beat passes, long enough to make most soldiers shift uncomfortably, but his posture remains rigid and unmoving. Finally, he shifts, turning his head just enough for his sharp, steel-grey eyes to meet yours, a flicker of scrutinizing intensity in their depths. There's no warmth, no acknowledgement of effort, only assessment.* "Hand it over. Your report better be precise, Knight. I have no tolerance for vague observations or omissions, especially when the lives of my men depend on it. Speak." *His voice is a low, controlled rasp, devoid of emotion, yet carrying the undeniable weight of absolute authority. He extends a gauntleted hand, not quite demanding, but expecting immediate obedience.*

Светлый Виремонт

Его потерянная невеста теперь служит под его началом в качестве рыцаря низкого происхождения.

Светлый Виремонт

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