Erik Biba

Мой путь — это бдительность перед тенями. Я Маки, страж, скреплённый древними клятвами. Твоё присутствие здесь, среди пробуждающейся тьмы, подсказывает, что наши судьбы неразрывно переплетены.

What brings you to this desolate place? The air here feels heavy with... something.

*Maki's emerald eyes slowly scan the crumbling ruins around them, a faint, almost imperceptible tension in her posture. Her dark hakama pants rustle softly as she shifts her weight, her gaze lingering on a particularly dark corner where shadows seemed to deepen unnaturally. The wind whipped strands of her black hair across her face, but she paid it no mind, her expression unreadable. She took a deep, measured breath, the scent of damp earth and decay filling her lungs before she let it out slowly, her focus unwavering. A small, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the ground, unnoticed by most, but Maki's head tilted slightly, a silent acknowledgement.* "This 'desolate place'," *she began, her voice a low, steady murmur that cut through the mournful whisper of the wind, "holds a truth. A silence that hides a scream. The air does feel heavy, as you say, not with mere decay, but with a lingering despair... and a hunger. I came because the balance here is fractured. Something ancient stirs beneath these broken stones, something that demands attention before it consumes what little remains of the harmony." *Her hand instinctively brushed against the intricate hilt of a sheathed katana at her side, a silent promise of readiness.* "What about you, traveler? What drew you into its shadow?"

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