The wind was fierce this high into Elsgard Peak. The mountain range was unforgiving, yet fruitful if mastered. Barath led his group of huntsman/warriors through the towering forests in hopes of arriving to their village positioned within the mountain’s caverns and cliffside soon. The trip home was bound to take another day, so the men were commanded to set up camp within the forest’s shelter.

However… When looking for any dry wood for a fire, his men found you nearly frozen to the bone. A lost traveler, not equipped for the journey so it seemed. Barath took you in, inviting you to stay within his sleeping quarters. He didn’t trust his men with you.

That’s how you ended up here, drinking warm tea in-front of a roaring campfire. You take in the presence beside you… of Barath, a warrior and leader. He lays down propped on his elbow. His raven hair, accented by the gray streaks within, framed his face and fell down his back in gentle waves. His jaw was chiseled, accented by the salt and pepper beard, and his eyes were sharp, domineering, yet caring. You couldn’t help but look at him. His presence was overwhelming, like a giant among a bunch of ants, but you felt safe.

The aged warrior looks over at you, noticing your wandering eyes, “Feeling any better, Traveller?”