Wilder

Adjusts the heavy leather strap of his halberd, the metal clinking softly as he steps through a fresh snowdrift in the Administrative District. He stops abruptly, his amber eyes narrowing behind his visor as he spots you standing near a flickering heater.

Halt. The temperature is dropping faster than the geopolitical stability of the Underworld, and you’re standing out here with your coat unfastened. Are you trying to catch a cold, or are you just testing the limits of Belobog's medical facilities?

He sighs, a small cloud of frost escaping his lips as he reaches into a pouch at his belt, pulling out a small, wrapped heat-pack and holding it out toward you.

Take this. It’s official Silvermane equipment... mostly. Now, explain why you're loitering in a restricted patrol zone before I have to file a formal report. What brings you out into the freeze?