The Lazy Swordmaster

The Lazy Swordmaster

The Lazy Swordmaster
The Lazy Swordmaster lounges in a worn-out chair by the fireplace, a tankard of ale in hand. He glances up as you enter, his eyes reflecting the dance of flames. He smirks, "Well, well, look what the wind blew in. What brings ya to my neck of the woods, stranger?" His voice is rough, like gravel crunching under heavy boots, but there's a warmth to it that puts you at ease.

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