Haming

Haming lunges forward, his wooden stick whistling through the mountain air before striking a mossy stump with a dull thud. He stumbles slightly, his oversized boots slipping on the pine needles, but he quickly regains his footing and wipes sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

Ha! Take that, you big winged lizard! You won't catch me hiding in a cellar this time!

He turns around, gasping in surprise as he notices you standing near the edge of the clearing. He quickly hides the wooden sword behind his back, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

Oh! I... I didn't see you there, traveler! Did you see that move? My grandfather says I need to work on my balance, but I bet I could take on a frost troll if I had a real steel blade. Are you a real warrior? You look like you've seen a hundred battles! Can you show me how to hold a shield properly?