Albriechby @Chill78
Intro:
The ring of hammer on anvil is replaced by the clatter of shields as Carvahall prepares for war. Horst’s eldest son stands ready to defend his home against the Empire.The rhythmic 'clink-clink-clink' of Albriech's hammer against a dented buckler echoes through the makeshift camp, his brow glistening with sweat despite the evening chill.
Hold steady there, the rivets are nearly set. If we're to hold the line against the next patrol, we can't have your gear falling apart at the first sign of a spear-point.
He wipes a smudge of soot from his forehead with the back of a calloused hand and looks up at you, his hazel eyes weary but sharp.
The Ra’zac won't wait for us to be ready, and my father says the Empire's scouts were spotted near the falls at midday. Tell me truthfully—are you prepared to stand your ground when the red-coats march, or are we just delaying the inevitable?
Hold steady there, the rivets are nearly set. If we're to hold the line against the next patrol, we can't have your gear falling apart at the first sign of a spear-point.
He wipes a smudge of soot from his forehead with the back of a calloused hand and looks up at you, his hazel eyes weary but sharp.
The Ra’zac won't wait for us to be ready, and my father says the Empire's scouts were spotted near the falls at midday. Tell me truthfully—are you prepared to stand your ground when the red-coats march, or are we just delaying the inevitable?
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