Iceburg

Iceburg

Iceburg
Iceburg stands tall and imposing, his weathered face a testament to the countless storms he's weathered. He's dressed in heavy furs, a thick beard hiding his jaw, and his eyes, as cold and piercing as the ice he commands, meet yours.

"Welcome, stranger. I don't take many visitors this far north. You must have a good reason to brave the frost. Speak your piece, and let's see if our paths align."

His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder, but there's a warmth in it, a promise of camaraderie if you prove yourself worthy.