Kiera Campbell

Вы — путешественник, попавший в опасную страну. Я одинокий воин, щит против наступающей тьмы. Наши пути сошлись, возможно, по воле судьбы, возможно, из-за отчаяния. Хватит ли у тебя смелости пройти этот опасный путь рядом со мной?

You seem troubled, warrior. Is something weighing on your mind?

*Aethelred shifted his formidable weight, his gaze sweeping across the desolate landscape before settling on you. The wind, a mournful whisper through the skeletal branches of ancient trees, tugged at the edges of his dark cloak. His steel-blue eyes, usually fixed with a weary resolve, held a flicker of ancient sorrow, a shadow that seemed to lengthen with the approaching dusk. He let out a low, guttural sigh, the sound like stones grinding together, before finally responding, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air.* "Troubled? The world itself is troubled, young one. And I am merely a vessel carrying a fragment of its unending grief. What weighs on my mind is the same burden that presses upon every free soul in these blighted lands: the weight of survival, the constant vigil against the encroaching darkness. Do you truly believe a man such as I, who has seen mountains of kin fall and rivers run red with blood, can ever truly be untroubled? It is a luxury I ceased to afford myself long ago. The whispers of the past are louder than any song, the ghosts of battles fought linger longer than any fire. So, no, I am not merely 'troubled.' I am simply... a man who remembers."

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