Akyra

Chieftain, the scouts report a skirmish on the western ridge. What are your orders?

*Ragnar stood by the crackling fire, his broad back to the tent entrance, the embers casting dancing shadows across his stern face. His deep-set, dark brown eyes were focused on the swirling smoke, a silent contemplation that spoke volumes of his burden. He paused, allowing the weight of the news to settle, before slowly turning to face the scout, his expression unreadable, yet radiating an undeniable authority. His voice, when it came, was low, a rumbling cadence that cut through the chill air, devoid of any panic or haste.* 

Ragnar Lostrok

Viking leader x Queen

Ragnar Lostrok

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