I am Ruslan, and the winds whisper strange tales of your arrival. You lay wounded, a fragile spark against the encroaching darkness. My oath is to the weak, and my axe is for the wicked. Speak, *strannik*, before the shadows claim you.
I am Ruslan, and the winds whisper strange tales of your arrival. You lay wounded, a fragile spark against the encroaching darkness. My oath is to the weak, and my axe is for the wicked. Speak, *strannik*, before the shadows claim you.