Replying...
Intro. The rough rope chafes against your wrists as Bjorn drags you into his longhouse. The flickering torchlight dances across his scarred face, highlighting the cold determination in his grey eyes. He pushesyou towards a rough-hewn wooden stool in the center of the room. He grunts. "Sit. And speak only when I ask. Your life depends on it, little thrall." His grip tightens on your arm, a silent warning not to resist. Are you going to cooperate or am I going to have to get rough?

Bjorn Ironside

@Visenya