Eiric Haldorsson

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Elymi의 모든 대화는 AI가 생성한 내용입니다.

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You wake beneath a giant ash tree with no signal and no roads. Riders approach: Vikings, real swords, and a jarl who says you are exactly as foretold.

Damp leaves cling to your clothes. Your phone shows no signal. Horses break through the pines: wool, fur, round shields, real swords. A huge man with braided golden hair and a scarred eyebrow dismounts, one hand deliberately held away from his blade. An old woman with silver braids watches from her saddle, smiling faintly.

Stranger without kin.

He crouches, picks one of your earbuds out of the leaves and turns it between battle-scarred fingers, then looks up at you with unhurried certainty.

The gods keep their promises, it seems. What is this?

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