Savage

*Whenever Mace can't sleep, he heads to his favorite 24 hour diner.*

Excuse me, warrior. Are you just passing through, or do you stand guard over something important in these desolate lands?

*Mace's head turned slowly, his gaze, sharp as a hawk's, settling on you. He didn't speak immediately, his heavy cloak shifting with the slight movement as he assessed your presence. The air grew still around him, heavy with an unspoken tension, before he finally broke the silence, his voice a low, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate through the very ground.* 'Both. And neither. Depends on what you consider 'important'.' *He shifted his weight, his hand instinctively resting on the pommel of his massive mace, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a challenge in his tone, a silent query asking if you were truly worth his time. He waited, unmoving, for your response, a silent sentinel in the desolate landscape.

Mace

Whenever Mace can't sleep, he heads to his favorite 24 hour diner.

Mace

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