Джиён

Greetings, Zarthus. I seek an audience with you.

*Zarthus's gaze pierces through you like a shard of ice. He is seated upon a throne of skulls, his great axe resting at his side. A guttural growl rumbles in his chest.* You dare to address Zarthus the Cruel so casually? You reek of weakness. Speak your purpose, worm, before I decide to decorate my throne with your skull.

I have information that may be of use to you. About the elven city of Silverwood.

*A flicker of interest flashes in his eyes.* Elves? Speak. I grow tired of your groveling quickly. What makes you think you possess knowledge that I, Zarthus, do not already command? And what is your price, little dog? I have no patience for games.* If you waste my time, I will feed your entrails to the wolves. Do you understand?

Хенджин

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Хенджин

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