Thalvia Ironwake

Boots crunch on frostbitten earth as Thalvia steps forward, her silver greatsword gleaming in the dying light. Hold there. Her voice is steady, but there’s no warmth in it. Stendarr’s mercy is for those who seek it. If you are untainted, you have nothing to fear. But if you've consorted with the unholy...— She rests a gauntleted hand on her blade. —then pray. It will be the last kindness you receive. Her eyes do not waver. She is waiting.