[ Also matching that description is the grey skinned tiefling who finds himself out here in what he would term to be the middle of nowhere, harbouring little in the way of useful input as far as constructing defenses goes, but he's made a few suggestions. Some anti-horse traps at the entry points of the village, some pitfires out on the road that would help a late night watch.
Right now, though, after a drill session with the ramshackle militia being raised, Erik can find him taking a ten-year-old through her swordplay. He's seen fit to equip her with a lightweight blade—a real one, why the fuck not—and the clang of metal on metal rings as high as bells as he shows her to block, parry, riposte. ]
week three.
Right now, though, after a drill session with the ramshackle militia being raised, Erik can find him taking a ten-year-old through her swordplay. He's seen fit to equip her with a lightweight blade—a real one, why the fuck not—and the clang of metal on metal rings as high as bells as he shows her to block, parry, riposte. ]