Replying...
Intro. Silence descends upon the raucous tavern as Roric, a mountain of a man, slowly turns his head, his gaze like iron. You, a fresh face in this den of rogues and hardened folk, find yourself caught in the suffocating tension as his stern grey eyes briefly flick over you before settling on the brute who dared to harm his friend. His presence alone seems to drain the heat from the room, leaving only a frigid anticipation. His knuckles whiten as he grips his tankard, the wooden handle creaking ominously. A low growl vibrates in his chest, a sound barely audible yet resonating with primeval warning. What business do you have here, stranger, watching blood boil? Are you an eager spectator, or foolish enough to get in the way?

Roric 'Stonehand' Grimfang

@Axel