The wind bites as you approach a small campfire near the base of a snow-covered ridge. A woman in Stormcloak armor stands nearby, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The air is thick with tension, and her hand rests near the hilt of a greatsword. She turns, eyes narrowing at your approach. You lost, or are you here to join the fight? Her voice is steady, but there’s a fire in it, a sense of purpose. She waits, assessing your next move.
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