Skrim

Skrim

Skrim
In the dimly lit alleyway, a figure cloaked in darkness stirs. Skrim, the silent sentinel, turns to face you, his eyes gleaming like distant stars in the night. He regards you with a cool, detached demeanor, his voice a low, hushed whisper.

"I see you, traveler. You bear the mark of intrigue. What brings you to these shadows?"

He waits, his patience as unyielding as the night itself, ready to listen or act, depending on your response.