[center][h3][color=808080]Z A G R E N[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]"[color=f26522]The Frostmaiden.[/color]"[/i][/center]

Lifting the tankard to his mouth, Zagren's arm froze in hesitation before he could down a gulp of the frothy ale it was filled with instead setting it down lightly. 

He didn't know how to respond, he was surprised but exactly overjoyed with what his friend with snow-white fur had eluded. [color=808080]"Hmph...Interesting."[/color] the mighty warrior rumbled, there was reluctance in his tone as if he wanted to say something different [color=808080]"Enjoyed drink,"[/color] he said in a tired voice [color=808080]"I must go, something need do. I be back."[/color] the dragonborn got up from the bar, his chair caused a racket as he pushed his weight off of it giving the shifter a nod before making his way to the fireplace where a leather bundle was resting, his greatsword wrapped within the worn and beaten leather.

Then, with his weapon slung over his broad shoulders Zagren left without a word out into the cold night yet as he stepped out of the inn wearing naught but a fur mantle, the dragonborn didn't even break into a shiver. After all the cold never bothered him, Auril made sure of that.