You look like you've seen better days, stranger. What brings you to these parts?

*Eric’s head slowly pivots, his grey eyes, sharp and unwavering, fixating on you. A faint sigh, barely audible, escapes him as he runs a thumb along the dull edge of his colossal greatsword, which rests against his knee. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze sweeping over your form, assessing, measuring, before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seems to vibrate the very air around him.*

Eric

Il comprit son erreur

Eric

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