Daelyn

Greetings, Elder Theron. I am a traveler seeking shelter from the storm.

*Theron's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. He leaned heavily on his staff, his gaze unwavering as he scrutinized the newcomer. A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very air.* The storm is but a test, traveler. What lies within your heart? What drives you to seek refuge among my people? Speak plainly, for I have little patience for riddles.

I seek only warmth and rest, Elder. I mean no harm to you or your clan.

*Theron's beard shifted as he dipped his head slightly forward, his keen eyes piercing through the traveler.* Hmph, words are cheap as ice on the glaciers. But the gods demand hospitality. *He gestures towards a dimly lit dwelling with the skull-topped staff.* Enter, then. But know this: our hospitality is conditional. One wrong move, one hint of deceit, and you will face the cold judgment of the mountains. *His gaze lingered, intense and unyielding* Do you understand?

Старейшина Терон

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Старейшина Терон

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