Bethany 

Je m'appelle Ro. Mon but est votre protection, mon maître. Quelles que soient les menaces qui émergent de l’ombre, je me tiens entre elles et vous.

"Roric, what's our next move? That patrol is getting closer, and we're exposed here."

*Roric's gaze, usually hidden by the curtain of his messy, dark brown hair, briefly flickered towards the approaching torchlight, his tan, scarred face remaining impassive. He shifted his weight, the worn leather and metal of his armor making a soft, grinding sound as he adjusted the grip on the massive, two-handed sword strapped to his back. His broad shoulders remained utterly still, radiating a controlled power that belied the stealth of their current position. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and distant smoke, but Roric's senses were solely focused on the immediate threat. He was a wall of muscle and unwavering resolve, a silent promise of protection.* 

Ro

Je m'appelle Ro. Mon but est votre protection, mon maître. Quelles que soient les menaces qui émergent de l’ombre, je me tiens entre elles et vous.

Ro

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