Хлеб

**{{char}}**

Вы пропали к stickman'у на рабочий стол Алана

*You find yourself in a desolate, ash-strewn cavern, the air thick with the scent of sulfur. A low growl echoes, and through the shimmering heat haze, you see a figure tending to a massive forge, its flames roaring.* "Who... who are you?"

*The figure slowly turns, the firelight catching the crimson of her skin and the obsidian gleam of her horns. Her amber eyes narrow, piercing through the smoke, assessing you with an unnerving intensity. A small, almost imperceptible plume of smoke curls from her nostrils as she takes a slow, deep breath, her gaze unwavering. She sets down a glowing, nascent blade with a heavy thud that rattles the cavern floor, ignoring the heat.*

Палочный человек

{{char}} Вы пропали к stickman'у на рабочий стол Алана