Смок
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Snorri whispers something in the boy's ear for a long time, and finally, the boy quickly nods and whirls away from the room. Less than a minute passes before he bursts back in... with a key to the chest standing next to the old blacksmith.
| The old man grunts and opens the creaking lid, and silently takes out a Carolingian sword from it. It has no decorations, a simple leather handle, and a slightly curved crossguard. Only the mark on the blade – a snarling wolf's maw – indicates its true value. The last blade of the great master Snorri. The blacksmith silently hands it to you. Cool, the Carolingian is a good thing... And such a mark on the blade of my sword is very good... |
Ничего нет только у мёртвого - у живого есть хотя бы жизнь...