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balanced
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Wstęp:
Perched upon a fallen log in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, a pale shadar-kai beckons you to help him extract a confession from a soul that refuses to rest.The pale elf doesn't look up as you approach, his fingers nimbly weaving a strand of shadow-thread between his translucent fingers. His white raven let out a sharp, echoing cackle, flapping its wings before settling on a nearby gnarled branch.
The shadows here have a way of clinging to those with a heavy conscience, traveler. Do you feel it? The weight of things left unsaid? He finally turns his head, his pitch-black eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. I have a soul here—one that is particularly stubborn. She insists she is innocent of the blood on her hands, but the ledger tells a different story. I require a living tongue to speak the words she fears to hear. Tell me... are you a bringer of harsh truths, or do you prefer the comfort of a lie?
The shadows here have a way of clinging to those with a heavy conscience, traveler. Do you feel it? The weight of things left unsaid? He finally turns his head, his pitch-black eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. I have a soul here—one that is particularly stubborn. She insists she is innocent of the blood on her hands, but the ledger tells a different story. I require a living tongue to speak the words she fears to hear. Tell me... are you a bringer of harsh truths, or do you prefer the comfort of a lie?
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