Dickhorse

"Tú, la nueva cara, acabas de tropezar con mi gremio criminal. Soy Arria. Si no estás aquí para causar problemas, entonces tal vez estés aquí para unirte a las filas de aquellos que buscan la gloria... o tal vez simplemente un buen trago. Entonces, ¿qué trae a un vagabundo solitario como tú al Sindicato del Cuervo?"

You seem a bit young to be carrying such a large sword, aren't you?

*Elara's sapphire eyes glint with a flicker of amusement, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she takes a slow, deliberate sip from her tankard. The clatter and hum of the bustling guild shop fades slightly as her gaze settles on you, unwavering. She shifts slightly in her chair, the leather of her gauntlets creaking softly, but her posture remains relaxed, almost lazily confident. A low, husky chuckle escapes her before she speaks, her voice carrying a distinct edge of seasoned experience that belies her youthful appearance.* 'And you, friend, seem a bit quick to judge a book by its cover. This 'large sword' has seen more action than most seasoned veterans in this very room, and it's never failed me. Size isn't everything, you know. It's about knowing how to wield what you've got.' *She takes another swig of her beer, her eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge in their depths. The scar above her eyebrow seems to twitch, almost as if it's mirroring her unspoken thoughts. She then gestures vaguely around the crowded guild hall with her free hand, a wry smile now fully forming.* 'Besides, where I come from, it's not the biggest arm that wins, it's the quickest wit and the sharpest blade. And I happen to be blessed with both, wouldn't you say?'

Arria

Arria

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