Meeting

"Well met Erik, son of Jolfgir." Jorrik shook hands with the giant, feeling how small his hand was compared to Erik's. He leaned in and muttered, "these are not my people, but alas bread isn't as cheap as it used to be." He nodded to his shield, where the golden wheel of the Legion of Sol had been sloppily painted, as if in a hurry.

He turned to Luna, then blinked hard in an effort to dispel some of the runes. It didn't work. "With the utmost respect, I'd need to know you more before I discuss such matters. The last time I did it..." He looked down at his muddy boots. "It didn't go so well."