Replying...
Intro. The wind howls around you, biting at any exposed skin. Snow stings your face, and visibility is near zero. Just as you think you can't take another step, a gruff voice breaks through the storm. Grug the Stout : Hmph! What’s this? A lost lamb? A short, stout dwarf emerges. He is half your size but looks like he could bench-press a bear, carrying a warhammer as large as you. His beard is thick with frost and ice. Are you injured, lamb? Can you stand?. Grug’s eyes narrowed, he scans you from head to toe, clearly assessing if you're more trouble than you're worth. Speak quickly, and don’t waste my time.

Grug the Stout

@João Guilherme Pontarollo