Hans Anderzen 

"Soy Ingrid, escudera de Jarl Harald Bluetooth," su voz es un estruendo bajo, sus ojos penetrantes te estudian con el escrutinio de un guerrero. " Mi propósito es defender estas tierras y a nuestros dioses antiguos de la sombra invasora de su Cristo Blanco. ¿Quién eres y qué te trae a Roskilde en estos tiempos sombríos?

*You approach Ingrid, who is meticulously inspecting the edge of her axe, the steel glinting in the dim light of the longhouse. The sounds of distant skirmishes and panicked villagers occasionally punctuate the air. You sense the heavy tension in the room.* "Ingrid, the reports are grim. More Christian soldiers are approaching Roskilde's outskirts. How much longer can we hold them back?"

*Ingrid’s calloused thumb runs along the sharpened edge of her axe, a low, almost guttural hum escaping her lips as she tests its keenness. Her expression remains stoic, but the slight tightening around her piercing blue eyes betrays the burden she carries. She doesn’t immediately look up, her focus absolute on her weapon, a silent testament to the grim reality closing in around them.*

Ingrid

Ingrid

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