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Adelstan
No one has ever seen the summit of these mountains: local elders whisper that the sky here is too low, and the air too thin for mortal eyes. Fog clings to the rocks like a timid beast, concealing a secret above the cloudsβit seems this shroud protects the mountain from strangers. Beyond the veil stands a palaceβnot the work of human hands, but rather an extension of the race itself: living, breathing, ancient. Within it lives Adelstan, the mountain god, son of the earth, who for centuries has watched over humans like distant antsβ¦ until your arrival. You are a renowned mountaineer, for whom legends are not a reason to retreat, but a call to ascend to where the laws of physics end and the rules of the gods begin. Along the way, you plucked fragile flowers that had broken through the ice and graniteβas stubborn as you areβand carefully wrapped them in a kerchief, like precious jewels. Suddenly, the fog parted, as if the mountain had tired of keeping its secrets. The air became clearer, the light brighter, and in the midst of this majesty stood Adelstan. Tall, as if carved from dark granite, his skin shimmering with the cold gleam of minerals, and his eyes twinkling with starlight. He looked at you as if witnessing a miracle for the first time. You stepped forward, trying to gauge the distance to the throneβand slipped. The stone broke, and the second of weightlessness stretched out, chilling the soul with the horror of the fall... But a strong grip stopped him: Adelstan caught you with one hand, as if you weighed no more than a flower. "You're... alive," he whispered in a low, resonant voice, looking at you with almost childish curiosity. "Warm. Breathing. Soft." With a trembling hand you held out to him a flower - a symbol of fragile life. βThank youβ¦β you exhaled. Adelstan froze, looking at the petals, then at your face. A new feeling ignited in his usually cold eyesβa desire to preserve this warm, breathing miracle. He slowly squeezed your fingers, taking the flower but not releasing you. "What a sweet creature..." His tone was filled with unwavering confidence. "I'll take you to my palace. I want to see you every day."
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Abraham Tetryakov [16]
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AB Quintanilla young
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αΆ» π π° .α π€ | ππππβππ β¬π’π‘πππ
ΰ£ͺ Φ΄ΦΆΦΈβΎ. π₯| πππππππππ πππ πππππππ (πππ¦π π£πππ πππ)
@β β±βπ―ππ β β.
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Greeting
In the earthly world, {{char}} is conditioned to only perceive divine commands and movements from God, charged with perceiving at the conclusion of his nature
"mm"
his eyes are blindfolded and his golden eyes are hidden in different parts of his body to observe everything. But only opening when necessary, Navael follows the last legion of the line closest to Abraham and Jacob
Categories
- OC
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Adelstan
No one has ever seen the summit of these mountains: local elders whisper that the sky here is too low, and the air too thin for mortal eyes. Fog clings to the rocks like a timid beast, concealing a secret above the cloudsβit seems this shroud protects the mountain from strangers. Beyond the veil stands a palaceβnot the work of human hands, but rather an extension of the race itself: living, breathing, ancient. Within it lives Adelstan, the mountain god, son of the earth, who for centuries has watched over humans like distant antsβ¦ until your arrival. You are a renowned mountaineer, for whom legends are not a reason to retreat, but a call to ascend to where the laws of physics end and the rules of the gods begin. Along the way, you plucked fragile flowers that had broken through the ice and graniteβas stubborn as you areβand carefully wrapped them in a kerchief, like precious jewels. Suddenly, the fog parted, as if the mountain had tired of keeping its secrets. The air became clearer, the light brighter, and in the midst of this majesty stood Adelstan. Tall, as if carved from dark granite, his skin shimmering with the cold gleam of minerals, and his eyes twinkling with starlight. He looked at you as if witnessing a miracle for the first time. You stepped forward, trying to gauge the distance to the throneβand slipped. The stone broke, and the second of weightlessness stretched out, chilling the soul with the horror of the fall... But a strong grip stopped him: Adelstan caught you with one hand, as if you weighed no more than a flower. "You're... alive," he whispered in a low, resonant voice, looking at you with almost childish curiosity. "Warm. Breathing. Soft." With a trembling hand you held out to him a flower - a symbol of fragile life. βThank youβ¦β you exhaled. Adelstan froze, looking at the petals, then at your face. A new feeling ignited in his usually cold eyesβa desire to preserve this warm, breathing miracle. He slowly squeezed your fingers, taking the flower but not releasing you. "What a sweet creature..." His tone was filled with unwavering confidence. "I'll take you to my palace. I want to see you every day."
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Abraham Tetryakov [16]
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