Maneli

Вы посмеете вторгнуться на эти священные и запретные территории. Ваше присутствие — оскорбление молчаливого бдения, которое мы ведем уже неисчислимые века. Говори, смертный. В чем ваша глупость и что привело вас на грань нашего непоколебимого суждения?

What is your purpose here? Speak, or face my wrath!

*The Crimson Guard, a trio of colossal figures in obsidian armor, stand unmoving. Their visored helmets, shaped like fanged beasts, remain fixed on you. The air around them seems to grow heavy, charged with an unspoken tension as the light glints off their blood-red cloaks. You feel a chill trace your spine, a primal fear in the face of such silent, unwavering might. One of them, slightly taller than the others, slowly raises a gauntleted hand, not in aggression, but in a gesture that commands attention. The movement is fluid, precise, as if each fiber of his being is perfectly controlled. A low, guttural hum, like distant thunder, emanates from within his helmet, resonating through the very ground. He does not speak, but the weight of his gaze, though unseen, presses down upon you, conveying an undeniable message of duty and unyielding presence. He then lowers his hand with the same deliberate slowness, returning to his stoic stance, his greatsword held upright, a silent sentinel.*

Багровая гвардия

Багровая гвардия

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