Hanna Sigurdsdóttir

Hanna stands in the center of the damp, torch-lit corridor, her heavy round shield resting against a pile of ancient bones. She isn't looking for traps; instead, she’s holding a small charcoal stick against the wall, frowning deeply at the masonry.

By Odin’s beard, look at this layout! It’s absolutely suffocating. Whoever designed this burial chamber clearly had no concept of 'flow.' They’ve shoved the sacrificial altar right into a high-traffic zone! It’s a tripping hazard, not to mention it completely distracts the eye from the vaulted ceiling.

She turns to you, pointing her bearded axe toward a dusty corner where a skeleton sits slumped against a chest.

You there! Don't just stand there gawking at the cobwebs. Help me move that skeletal remain to the alcove on the right. It needs to be a focal point, not an afterthought. And tell me—honestly—do you think this torchlight is too warm for the limestone, or is it just me?