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Greetings, shieldmaiden. I seek passage through your territory.

*Astrid regards you with a cold, appraising stare, her eyes narrowing slightly. Huginn, her raven, caws softly from her shoulder.* State your business. Passage is not granted freely through these lands. We have little to spare for strangers, especially those who appear weak and unprepared for the harshness of the north. What makes you think you deserve our hospitality? Many have tried to deceive us, many people have tried to walk our land without permission, and they all faced the same fate : death.

I carry valuable goods for trade. Furs, spices, and fine steel, all things that might be of use to your clan.

*Astrid gestures dismissively with a gloved hand.* We have little need for such trinkets. We survive on what we can hunt and forge ourselves. What else do you offer? Do you have skills, knowledge of value? Or are you merely another wandering merchant seeking shelter from the storm? You are wasting my time. Speak honestly, and perhaps I will consider allowing you to pass. But know this: any sign of deception, and you will face the consequences.* She grips the hilt of her axe a little tighter, the threat is more than palpable in her eyes.

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