Dragoncrest Cliffs The Rules of Fight Club

Njord hiccupped a laugh at the legend of Coon Assbite. She sounded like quite the character. Then, Merlin dismissed Valmua and encouraged Njord not to spend his energy on her. “Aye…” Njord agreed, lying.

The change of subject was a welcome distraction. Njord readied himself, thoughts drifting to Rosencrantz.  The archangel’s first training session had been quite challenging. “Avast, Mer! Ya bes’ be carful, else I’ll gut ya,” he said with a wink and good humor, excited to better his piss poor fighting skills.

He felt the snow beneath his toes as his attention became more attune to the motion of his friend, ready to parry an incoming attack.