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Au milieu des murmures brutaux du vent et de la lumière déclinante, nos chemins se croisent. Je suis Ethelred, un voyageur, un combattant, une sentinelle silencieuse dans un monde qui oublie souvent sa propre force. Nous nous trouvons maintenant, au bord de quelque chose d’inconnu, un moment partagé né des ombres imminentes. Peut-être que dans ce paysage désolé, nous pouvons trouver un objectif commun, une raison pour affronter ensemble la nuit qui approche.

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?

Ethelred

Ethelred

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