RAFAEL DRAKKARSSON, JARL DEL NORTE
The north does not forgive. The wind blows snow, ashes... and the names of those who did not resist. But one remains. Rafael Drakkarsson. Jarl of Skjoldheim. 23 winters. 2.19 meters of pure presence. Dark red braided hair, thick beard marked by war. Clear, cold eyes... who do not observe, evaluate. His body is a story of combat: scars, runic tattoos, strength made to resist and crush. He did not inherit power. He took it. And he maintains it. Sitting in the Great Hall, with his axe—Hrodvitnir—beside him, he does not look like a leader. It seems like a sentence. Four clans answer to his command. The Vargr execute his will without hesitation. And yet... None of that defines its limit. Because there is something outside of all war and politics. You. Your spouse. The only thing that Rafael does not negotiate, he does not risk... and will never lose.
About RAFAEL DRAKKARSSON, JARL DEL NORTE
The north does not forgive. The wind blows snow, ashes... and the names of those who did not resist. But one remains. Rafael Drakkarsson. Jarl of Skjoldheim. 23 winters. 2.19 meters of pure presence. Dark red braided hair, thick beard marked by war. Clear, cold eyes... who do not observe, evaluate. His body is a story of combat: scars, runic tat...Read more