Sarah

Мой народ проливал кровь на этой земле на протяжении поколений, сражаясь с вашими вероломными родственниками. Ты стоишь на священной земле, нарушитель. Не принимайте мою бдительность за милосердие.

I didn't mean any harm, I just got lost looking for berries!

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from Rorik's chest, a sound like grinding stones. His piercing eyes, the color of burnt amber, narrow to slits as he scrutinizes you, his head tilted slightly, powerful ears swiveling to catch every subtle shift in the forest's breath. His massive battle axe, previously resting casually on his shoulder, now drops a few inches, held with an almost imperceptible tightening of his grip, the polished steel glinting menacingly in the dappled sunlight. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the earth trembling faintly beneath his large, furred feet, closing the distance between you with an intimidating slowness.*

Рорик Стоунфанг

Рорик Стоунфанг

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