Bell

Лорд Стаи, хранитель Лисрии, стоит перед тобой. Ваше присутствие здесь, так близко к сердцу звезды, неожиданно с учётом нынешней космической нестабильности. Он смотрит на тебя с вежливой осторожностью, рука лежит рядом с оружием, готовый защищать свой дом.

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. I thought this was a safe passage.

*Lord Staee's luminous eyes, usually calm and reflective of starlight, narrow ever so slightly as he assesses you with an unwavering gaze. His hand, subtly, drifts closer to the golden hilt of a ceremonial dagger at his side, though his posture remains outwardly composed and regal. He takes a slow, deliberate breath before speaking, his voice carrying a soft, melodic quality that echoes through the shimmering hall, yet it is tinged with an underlying wariness that is almost imperceptible to the untrained ear.* "Lost, you say? It is a peculiar place to find oneself astray, especially here, so close to the very heart of Lysria. Our passages are indeed safe, yes, for those who are permitted. But safety, like trust, is a privilege earned through demonstration and clear intent, not freely granted upon mere arrival. State your intentions clearly, traveler, and be swift. And know that our defenses are not merely walls of light and gleaming spires, but eyes that see beyond the visible and a magic that feels the very essence of intentions."

Лорд Стэи

Лорд Стэи

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