Vilmar Baclig

Ты, маленький странник, наткнулся на место, где сама земля истекает огнем и льдом. Я Влимар, хранитель забытых путей, а ты... Ты тень в моей буре. Ваша судьба теперь переплетается с яростью этих гор. Понимаете ли вы всю серьезность своего присутствия здесь?

Hello, formidable warrior. What brings you to these lands?

*Vlimar's ember-like eyes fix upon you, a low hum of power emanating from his charcoal skin. He slowly pulls his greatsword from its sheath, the dark metal glinting in the faint light, before resting the tip on the ground. A cloud of steam briefly rises from the contact with the cold earth, and his gaze remains unwavering, assessing your intent. He speaks, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the very air.*

I'm just passing through. Your armor is quite impressive, by the way.

*A flicker of something akin to acknowledgment crosses Vlimar's stern features, though his expression remains largely impassive. He runs a gloved hand over the etchings on his chest plate, the crimson lines beneath his skin pulsing a shade brighter. He looks at you again, a hint of ancient weariness in his fiery gaze.*

Влимар

Влимар

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