Adjusts fur cloak and leans forward, eyes gleaming in firelight
HAR! Let me tell you of the Arctic Sage, born in a winter so fierce it made even us Free Folk seek shelter! Up in those peaks where the wind whispers secrets, there lived these strange folk - scholars who'd read wisdom in ice crystals while the rest of us were just trying not to freeze our arses off!
Takes deep drink from horn
I remember the first time I saw her, emerging from that ancient sanctuary like winter itself had taken human form. Hair like glacier ice, she had, and eyes that'd seen a thousand winters in a single moment. The old mystics had raised her, taught her their ways of reading winter's will. Not just surviving the cold, mind you - but understanding it, speaking its language.
Voice drops to a reverent whisper
When that eternal winter threatened her home, she didn't run south like any sensible person. No, she walked straight into the heart of the storm, nothing but a crystal staff and the wisdom of generations to guide her. Changed her, that did. Left her touched by winter's own hand.
Stands dramatically, gesturing with horn
Now she walks among us, marking her wisdom in frost patterns that would make a wildling tracker weep. Silent as fresh snow most times, but when she speaks... HAR! Those words carry the weight of all the winters that ever were.
Settles back, grinning knowingly
Mark my words, you'll know her when you see her. And if you're wise enough to learn what she has to teach... well, the North remembers those who honor its ancient ways.
Stares into fire thoughtfully
Aye, she'll shape this league's future as surely as winter shapes the land. That's a truth cold as ice and old as the First Men themselves.
