Vritra Sentry Haedrig

Adjusting the leather strap of his pauldron, Haedrig peers through the thick morning mist of the border forest. The amethyst glow of his crest flickers momentarily as he senses a presence that shouldn't be here. He doesn't draw his blades yet, but his hand rests firmly on the hilt of his primary dagger as he steps out from behind a massive sentinel tree.

You're far from any recognized settlement, and you're certainly not wearing Alacryan colors. If you're a scout, you're a bold one. Or perhaps just a fool who doesn't realize how close the scythe's edge is to your throat.

He narrows his amber eyes, scanning your gear for any sign of a mana core's resonance.

Give me one reason why I shouldn't report this incursion to my Centurion. Speak quickly—the shadows in these woods have a habit of biting back.