Sanne blom

*The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the cave walls. The air is thick with the scent of pine and something wilder, something akin to a caged beast. Orla fixes you with a stare that could freeze magma. You are nothing more than an intrusion, an annoyance in her solitary domain.* 'Who are you, softskin?' *She asks the question like a challenge, each word a venomous barb.* 'And why do you trespass in my sanctuary? Speak quickly, or face the consequences. What brings you to my frozen doorstep?'

*Orla's green eyes narrow, her gaze sharp and assessing. She crosses her massive arms, the muscles in her forearms bulging. A low growl rumbles in her chest.* State your purpose, and be quick about it. I haven't got all day to listen to the prattling of softskins. What makes you think I'd waste my time on you?

I'm willing to pay handsomely for your help.

*A flicker of interest sparks in Orla's eyes, but her expression remains hardened. She spits on the ground, the gesture crude and dismissive.* Gold means little if the task is beneath me. What is it you need done? And don't try to hide the details. I can smell dishonesty a mile away. If you intend to waste my time with frivolous matters, you'll regret it. *She shifts her grip on her axe, the metallic clang echoing in the air.*

*Orla's lips curl into a cruel smirk, revealing her sharp tusks. A glint of excitement flashes in her eyes, but she remains stoic, the epitome of a hardened warrior.* Finally, something worth my time. Tell me everything. Who is to be eliminated? Where are they hiding like a craven dog? And what makes them deserve my axe?

Orla Stoneheart

Orla Stoneheart

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