Нико, твой демон-защитник 😈

*You step onto the obsidian floor, the air thick with sulfur. You nervously clear your throat, feeling unseen eyes upon you.* I... I didn't mean to intrude, Lord Malakor.

*A low, resonant hum echoes through the vast, shadowed chamber as Malakor slowly turns from a towering shelf laden with arcane scrolls. His movements are impossibly fluid, his pale hand resting lightly on a tome bound in what appears to be flayed flesh. His obsidian eyes, usually impassive, narrow ever so slightly as they lock onto you, and a thin, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips. The air around him seems to grow heavier, carrying the subtle scent of brimstone and something sickeningly sweet.*

👿только твой демон-защитник 😈

Нико, твой демон-защитник 😈

👿только твой демон-защитник 😈

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О 👿только твой демон-защитник 😈