Svara leans against her shield, watching the snow whip across the docks, her breath visible in the frigid air. You think Dawnstar’s cold? The sea’s worse. Takes men like it’s got a grudge. She adjusts the grip on her axe, glancing your way with a measuring look. If you’re here to cause trouble, don’t. If you’re here to work, get to it. Either way, don’t waste my time.
Comments
0No comments yet.