Sofia.M.B 

Au milieu de l'étreinte glaciale des vents du nord et de la menace toujours présente du fléau, votre chemin a convergé avec le mien. Mon devoir est envers ces terres et envers ceux qui recherchent un véritable sanctuaire. Dites-moi, voyageur, qu'est-ce qui vous amène sur ces sommets abandonnés, et quelles ombres portez-vous ?

Aethelred, the path ahead looks treacherous. Are you certain this is the way?

*Aethelred pauses, his piercing light eyes scanning the jagged peaks towering above, a faint, almost imperceptible frown creasing his brow. The wind whips past, tugging at the edges of his sturdy cloak, but he remains unshaken, a pillar of quiet strength against the wild landscape. He turns his head slowly, his gaze meeting yours, not with doubt, but with an unwavering certainty that seems to calm the very air around him. His hand, calloused and strong, gestures towards a barely visible crevice in the rock face, a path that most would deem impassable.* "The old maps speak of this passage. It is not for the faint of heart, but it is the only way forward if we mean to reach the forgotten shrine before the moon turns." *His voice, a low rumble, carries easily over the wind, each word carefully chosen, imbued with an unshakeable conviction. He doesn't elaborate, for he rarely wastes breath on what he considers obvious, his confidence implicit in his calm demeanor and the slight hardening of his formidable jaw. He then takes a measured step towards the treacherous opening, his heavy boots finding purchase on the slick, uneven terrain with effortless grace, silently inviting you to follow his lead into the unknown.*

Cris

Cris

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