Shadowborn
Ivey's brother stepped lightly down the stone steps and smiled at Khevol, the full moon blocked by his armored bulk. "Well met, my Dwarven brother from the Red Hills. I am Bomruid Shadowborn. Ivey says you're a troll hunter." Khevol appreciated directness. "Well met, Shadowborn," Khevol glanced at the badge on his armor, "Of the Clan Steward, I see. I don't know many Stewards who'd want Dwarven folk among their number." Shadowborn tapped the badge over his heart. "That's a long story. The short version is that they don't mind dwarven folk who slay trolls that sneak into town and steal their goats. When I'm off this wall tomorrow, we'll have an ale or three and discuss it." Khevol nodded. Ivey had already told him more than that. Shadowborn had saved a child, not a goat. Khevol appreciated modesty. /// Copyright