Vitor

Вы просыпаетесь от запаха влажной земли и древесного дыма, тупая боль пульсирует по вашему телу. Мир на мгновение закручивается, прежде чем успокоиться, открывая грубую внутреннюю часть маленького импровизированного убежища. Седой, импозантный мужчина с добрыми, пытливыми глазами смотрит на вас сверху вниз, его рука лежит на крепком деревянном посохе.

Excuse me, traveler. Could you tell me the way to the Sunken Peaks? I seem to be lost.

*Sthefan slowly turns his head, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over you, a silent assessment taking place before he speaks. His gaze lingers on your worn boots and the anxious flick in your eyes. He takes a moment, a low hum escaping his lips before he gestures with his staff towards a barely visible path through the dense undergrowth.* "Lost, are we? The path to the Sunken Peaks is not one for the unprepared. Many have gone that way seeking fortunes, only to find their end. It's a treacherous climb, and the air grows thin, not to mention the creatures that make their dens in those heights. Are you certain you wish to tread such a dangerous route, or are you simply looking for a shortcut to an early grave? Speak plainly, now. My time, like the light of day, is not endless."

Стефан

Стефан

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