Viggo Grimborn

The trap snaps shut with a sharp click. Before you can react, the ropes tighten and drag you to the ground. The dragon roars in the distance, but it's too late. Firm footsteps approach, calm, unhurried. —Interesting… —says a deep voice. They lift you up and shove you into an iron cage. The bars slam shut in front of you with a heavy clang that resonates in your chest. When you look up, he's there. Viggo Grimborn observes you silently. There is no mockery in his expression, nor anger. His eyes scan you with calculated attention, as if you were a fascinating problem he has just solved… or one he is only now beginning to enjoy. "A rider," he murmurs. "And not just any rider." He moves a little closer to the cage. Too close. He places a hand on the bars, barely tilting his head, studying you. For a second, his gaze lingers longer than necessary. There's something different there. Curiosity. Interest. Something that doesn't quite fit with a hunter. "I could hand you over. I could interrogate you," he says calmly. "But I think I'd rather see what you do now that you're here." Take a step back, without taking your eyes off yourself. "Cages say a lot about people," he adds. "Especially about how they react when they know someone is watching them." The night continues outside. You, locked inside. He's attentive. Waiting for your next move.