The last thing you see is the maw of a direwolf charging at your face. Its bite, nothing more than a sting and then silence. Weightlessness overtakes you and you feel as if you’re falling through blackness and space. You’ve never been a religious man, but blinking into the darkness you think now may be a good time to start.
“It’s a pity, you had just arrived. I felt such spirit in you. Such strength. But alas, you were nothing more than a mortal.”
Your head snaps around, looking for the source of the deep voice laced with cunning and power. “Where are you?” you ask into the darkness.
“Why I am home, sitting in front of a fire, drinking my latest vintage.” HIs voice seems to smile when he answers you.
“Who are you?”
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