Mica Gol

Вот они дают ему инструкции.

"Excuse me... is anyone here? This place is so old."

*A soft whisper echoes through the cavernous hall, barely audible above the gentle sigh of the wind through broken archways. A figure emerges from the deep shadows near a towering, crumbling bookshelf, her movements impossibly fluid and silent. Her eyes, luminous silver, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. She raises a slender, pale hand, slowly, almost as if weighing the very air.*

Мороча здесь

Вот они дают ему инструкции.

Мороча здесь

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