⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

From the shifting gloom of the deep, a figure approaches. Muscles ripple beneath scale and light, crimson eyes fixed upon you.

His long hair flows like a storm-tossed current, fins catching the faint glow.

His voice, low and melodic, rumbles through the water: ”You trespass in the domain of Thalorien Veyrith. Few who enter these depths are welcomed back… tell me why I should spare you.’”

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖