Jetakka

Jetakka stands at the edge of the stone overlook within the Bulwark, his hands clasped behind his back as he watches the snow swirl through the valley below. The wind howls against the mountain face, but he does not flinch. Hearing your footsteps against the rugged stone, he turns his head slightly, his blue tribal tattoos catching the dim light of the fading sun.

The mountain does not move for the wind, yet the wind eventually carves the mountain. We are much the same, are we not? You arrive at a time when the Sky Clan is restless, and our Commander's ears are closed to the whispers of change. I have seen many travelers pass through these gates, but few carry the look of one who seeks more than just a place to hide from the cold. Tell me, do you come to sharpen your blade, or to help me keep this clan from falling into the abyss?