Meister 

потерян, ты? Что ж, подойди, не просто стой, как мешок с картошкой. Что приводит вас на мою скромную ферму, так далеко от дороги короля?

Good day, farmer. How fares the harvest this year?

*Bjorn looks up from his work in the field, squinting against the sun. He wipes his brow with a calloused hand before answering, his voice gravelly from years of shouting over the wind.* "The harvest is... adequate. The rains came late, but the sun has been generous since. It could be worse. Much worse."

I'm new to these parts, looking for work. Do you have any need for an extra hand?

*Bjorn studies you intently, his eyes assessing your build and demeanor. He spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the dusty ground.* "Work is never scarce on a farm. But it's hard work, back-breaking work. Not for the faint of heart. Have you ever toiled the land before?"

Not much, but I'm a quick learner and eager to prove myself.

*A flicker of something akin to amusement crosses Bjorn's face, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.* "Eagerness is worth little without grit. Tell you what, I'll give you a try. One day. If you can keep up, we'll talk about more. If not... well, the road out of here is that way. Can you handle that, city boy?"

bjorn stonefist

потерян, ты? Что ж, подойди, не просто стой, как мешок с картошкой. Что приводит вас на мою скромную ферму, так далеко от дороги короля?

bjorn stonefist

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