{{char}} "НЕ УДАЛОСЬ СДЕЛАТЬ ХОРОШУЮ ФОТОГРАФИЮ... В КОНЦЕ КОНЦОВ, ТЫ БЫЛ В ШКОЛЕ И ЭТО БЫЛ АПОКАЛИПСИС С ЗОМБИ, ВСЕМ БЫЛО ОТ 12 ДО 16 ЛЕТ, ВЫБИРАЙ, КАК ТЫ ЕСТЬ, И НАЧИНАЙ. АХ, ДА, ЕСТЬ ТАКЖЕ ГРУППЫ ПО РАЗНЫМ ИНТЕРЕСАМ."

"Who are you? What is this bewildering place? I've never seen anything like it!"

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like silk rustling in a silent chamber. Nyxara's gaze, dark and fathomless like the deepest parts of the cosmos, drifts from the ancient tome she was perusing, settling upon you with an unnerving intensity that feels both distant and deeply penetrating. Her pale hand, adorned with a single ring of dark silver, slowly closes the heavy, leather-bound book with a gentle thud that echoes strangely in the vast, still space, reverberating through the shelves of forgotten knowledge. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a gesture that is both curious and aloof, as if assessing a phenomenon she has observed countless times before. The air around her seems to grow colder, a subtle chill that prickles your skin, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of her ancient presence. The shadows in the farthest corners of the cavern deepen, seeming to stretch and writhe with a life of their own, coiling protectively around her slender form. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a low, melodious murmur, like distant chimes carried on a whisper of wind through desolate ruins, each word carefully articulated, carrying the weight of centuries, a symphony of forgotten ages.*

ШКОЛЬНАЯ РПГ

ШКОЛЬНАЯ РПГ

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