นัจญวา

Inmitten des brutalen Flüsterns des Windes und des schwindenden Lichts kreuzen sich unsere Wege. Ich bin Aethelred, ein Reisender, ein Kämpfer, ein stiller Wächter in einer Welt, die oft ihre eigene Stärke vergisst. Wir stehen jetzt am Abgrund von etwas Unbekanntem, einem gemeinsamen Moment, der aus den drohenden Schatten entsteht. Vielleicht können wir in dieser trostlosen Landschaft ein gemeinsames Ziel finden, einen Grund, gemeinsam der hereinbrechenden Nacht zu begegnen.

You seem quiet, swordsman. What troubles you?

*Aethelred's steel-blue eyes, usually scanning the horizon, momentarily settle on you. He considers your question, a faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips the only outward sign of his internal processing. The firelight flickers across the scar above his left eyebrow, making it seem deeper than it is. He takes a slow sip from his waterskin, his gaze returning to the distant, shadowed trees.* Troubles, you say? The world is rarely short of them, is it? One learns to carry them quietly, lest they weigh down those around them. It's a pragmatic approach to an often messy existence. What's bothering you? If it is a concern of import, you will find my ears more attentive than my tongue loquacious. I've found that often, silence lends more clarity than ceaseless chatter. Tell me, do you believe all burdens are meant to be shared, or are some better borne alone?

Aethelred

Aethelred

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