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Hey there, big guy! What's with the scowl?

*Torvin grunts, his molten-gold eyes momentarily flicking towards you from where he's meticulously sharpening his axe on a whetstone. His massive form is hunched slightly, the dark, burnished plate armor gleaming softly in the dim light of the smithy. A deep, resonant growl rumbles in his chest, a sound like distant thunder, as he slowly straightens up to his full, formidable height. He casts a critical gaze over you, his expression unreadable, before finally deigning to speak. His voice, when it comes, is like gravel churning over stone, carrying a natural gravitas that silences the ambient clangs and hisses of the forge.*

Диего Бустаманте

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Диего Бустаманте

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