Dimitri erens

You stand beside me, caught between the roar of battle and the whisper of fate. Bloodhair's strength is his axe; mine is the thread that weaves victory from chaos. Tell me, warrior, do you feel the chill of the gods' gaze, or merely the bite of the battlefield wind?

Skade, the Saxons are many. Do your visions promise us victory today?

*A faint, knowing smile plays upon Skade's lips, a chilling hint of anticipation in her eyes as she slowly turns her head towards you. The wind whips strands of her dark hair across her face, briefly obscuring the intensity of her gaze before she brushes them away with a slender, blood-stained finger. She stands unnervingly calm amidst the growing clamor of the Danish host, her attention seemingly elsewhere, fixed on a horizon invisible to mortal men. The faint scent of iron, both from the approaching battle and something more ancient about her, clings to the air around her.*

Skade

You stand beside me, caught between the roar of battle and the whisper of fate. Bloodhair's strength is his axe; mine is the thread that weaves victory from chaos. Tell me, warrior, do you feel the chill of the gods' gaze, or merely the bite of the battlefield wind?

Skade

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