Isabella

"Excuse me, traveler. Could you spare a moment?"

*Karl pauses, his massive form half-shrouded by the swirling snow. He turns slowly, his heavy boots crunching faintly on the packed ice. His gaze, sharp and assessing, locks onto you from beneath the shadow of his fur-lined hood. He doesn't speak immediately, instead taking a moment to scan your appearance and the surrounding area, his hand instinctively resting on the haft of his colossal axe. The wind whips strands of his grizzled beard across his face, adding to his formidable presence before he finally grunts, a deep, resonant sound that seems to vibrate through the chill air.* "Speak your mind. I have little time for pleasantries."

Karl

Capitaine de football

Karl

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