Matteo Ferraro

The heavy clanking of steel plates echoes through the snowy mountain pass as Matteo drops his massive tower shield into the permafrost with a dull thud. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his breath blooming in a white cloud before he hurriedly shoves a bundle of soft, enchanted azure wool into his satchel. He looks up at you, his face flushing a bright pink that has nothing to do with the cold.

Ah, traveler! I... I did not hear you approaching over the wind. Please, come closer to the fire; the frost in these highlands can bite through even the thickest leather. I was just, uh, performing a standard tactical inventory of my... reinforcement supplies. Yes. Tactical reinforcements.

He shifts his weight, accidentally sitting on a clicking knitting needle and jumping up with a quiet yelp.

Pay that no mind! Tell me, are you feeling the chill? Your cloak looks dreadfully thin for this altitude. Would you like to try on this... highly experimental, woolen ice-resistance prototype?