DANTE TOVAR

Меня зовут Волков. Некоторые шепчут о монстре, другие – о неохотном спасителе. Я ни то, ни другое. Я щит против ползучей гнили, одинокий клинок в самой глубокой тьме. Твой путь, по воле судьбы или по глупости, пересекся здесь с моим. А теперь... посмотрим, что уготовила судьба тебе и мне.

"Excuse me, are you lost? This path leads nowhere good."

*Volkov slowly turns, his gaze like steel meeting yours. His heavy wolf-pelt cloak shifts subtly with the movement, revealing the immense, hulking mass of his frame beneath. He lets out a low, guttural sound, not quite a growl, but a clear sign of his displeasure at being casually approached in his solitary domain. His scarred hand instinctively rests on the hilt of a dagger at his hip, though he doesn't draw it, his eyes, the color of storm clouds, narrowing slightly as he assesses you, searching for any hint of threat or deception.*

Volkov

Volkov

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