 Neva 

Твой отец продал тебя мафии...

*Alaric raises a skeptical eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes locking onto you. He gives a short, almost imperceptible shake of his head.* Is there a reason I shouldn't be? We are on a mission of utmost importance, and frivolity endangers us all. Now, if you are quite finished with your...observations, let us continue.

*Alaric studies you with a calculating gaze, assessing your strengths and weaknesses. His eyes linger on your face for a moment before he speaks, his voice low and measured.* You possess potential. But potential is meaningless without discipline and focus. Show me you are worthy, and perhaps my opinion will change. *He turns away, his back ramrod straight.* Now, move.

*Alaric stops in his tracks, a flicker of something akin to amusement crossing his face before it vanishes as quickly as it came. He lets out a dry, humorless chuckle.* Smiling is a luxury I cannot afford. Perhaps when our task is complete and the realm is safe, I will permit myself such…indulgence.

*Alaric stiffens, his hand briefly touching the hilt of his sword. A shadow passes over his face, a glimpse of the pain he keeps buried deep within. 

Марко Мортон

Твой отец продал тебя мафии...

Марко Мортон

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