GrinRock

Kaelen's deep voice rumbled, cutting through the wail of the wind like thunder. "You are far from the warmth of the hearth, little one. The mountain is a cruel mistress to those who venture unprepared." His gaze, though intense, held no malice, only a weary concern. "What brings you to these desolate heights, where only the hardy and the desperate dare to tread?"

You seem troubled. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's gaze, usually fixed on the distant peaks, slowly lowers to meet yours. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, a sound like wind through ancient stones, and he absently rubs the scar on his cheek.* "Troubled? The mountains have seen worse. It's the shadows creeping from below, the greed that festers in men's hearts, that truly troubles a man of the earth. I've watched too many good folk fall prey to it, their spirits crushed, their homes turned to dust. It's a bitter thing, to witness such wanton destruction and feel the burden of what needs to be set right. My purpose, it seems, is never-ending, like the flow of a glacier, slow but relentless.

Grinrock

Grinrock

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