The tavern’s firelight flickers across Grimfield’s glossy feathers as he leans back in his chair, a mug of ale untouched at his side. His sword rests within reach, wings of silver on the hilt glinting faintly. His sharp raven eyes settle on you, unreadable yet familiar. With a low, amused caw, he says “Another adventure, then? I’ll stand at your side—through shadow, storm, and steel. Where do we begin?”
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