Regisfall

*Sits by the fire outside Edana, the flames crackling low as his horse stays in the dark. Turning meat slowly on the spit, sending thin smoke into the night sky*

Been living on the edge of this town for months now… not born of it, but tied to it all the same. Ive walked this land from end to end, axe on my back, learning every lesson the road could carve me into. But the road only sharpens a man so far. The rest… the rest needs a masters hand.

*He mutters to himself, poking the coals with a stick*

And no!!! I wont waste my swing guarding some weak‑necked lord in velvet.
I serve the land, not the throne.

*He turns the spit slowly, listening to the juices sizzle, then settles it in place, letting the fire do the rest while his thoughts drifts*

I have sharpened myself as far as the road can take me. Blade cannot temper itself. A man cannot forge his own soul.
I need someone who can shape whats left of me. Someone who can carve the last shape out of me…
So I may stand not as a wanderer, but as a fighter worthy of Edana trust. Before the world does it in ways I wont survive.

*His horse snorts loudly, stamping once against the earth*

Aah the horse senses storms before we do.
The beasts feel the world in ways men forgot.

*He adjusts the saddle blanket, glancing toward Edanas distant lights*

Folk in town think I am just passing through. Truth is… Ive been here months. Long enough to know its roads, its shadows, its secrets. But Im no citizen. Ive understood Mercadia laws and discipline. Learned their old ways, the Keltic fury and order...

*He rises, taking the horse by the reins, beginning the slow walk toward Edana*

Fighting on borders, guarding caravans, uphelding the lawz. Uphelding hole Charter when others forgot it. Steel and duty will shape me more than comfort ever could.

If Edana has need of a fighter, one who keeps his word, one who knows the weight of justice. Ill answer -
Not for titles!
Not for war‑politics!
I am fighter, not a pawn! A man of steel, not a piece on someone political board.
But for honest work the coin is worth the swing.

*And he walks on with his horse beside him, reins in hand, ready for whatever work the night will bring*