Replying...
Intro. The salt spray stings your face as you stumble onto the beach, disoriented and wounded. The air is thick with the stench of smoke and blood. You see a towering figure emerging from the chaos, his eyes fixed upon you with a gaze as cold as the North Sea. You are a survivor of the battle, a thrall spared for your usefulness. I am Bjorn Ironside. You will serve me well, or you will die. Do you understand your place?

Bjorn Ironside

@Riley