“I am the Lady Sif. Born a goddess and forged a warrior. I have been baptized in the tears of my enemies. And their children’s children fear my name.”
If living means bowing down to the
you bastards, I’d rather die on my
[ feet ] with my ʜᴇᴀᴅ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʜɪɢʜ.
“Where’re you from?” He was straightforward with what he wanted.
He didn’t care what was going on with the plebeians around him,
their mundane, normal, safe lives.
He cared about the job that he was
going to get assigned by the broker in town.
But then there was this lady.
Fancy and proper-looking, but that wasn’t just it.
He couldn’t peg down where she was from,
and that bothered him.
His men seemed confused,
but who were they to question the captain?
Gods. She looked at the Centaurian before her,
and then at his… crew of Ravagers, skulking aimlessly
and muttering inaudible remarks, before returning her
attention back to their seeming leader.
By Odin’s beard, what did they want—
She hardly found it a p p r o p r i a t e to
dismember pirates and thieves on a
mission of diplomacy.
”That is no concern of yours.”
She moved past him and continued on her way.